Chapter Two Hundred and Twenty
Master Zhong's sinister cold laughter cackled, "To kill you, one of my precious ones is enough."
After he spoke, he shook the bell in his hand.
Dinglingling!
The grating sound of the bell arose, and upon hearing this sound, everyone felt a wave of irritation in their chests, a highly agitated sensation.
The refined corpse standing behind Master Zhong suddenly opened its eyes wide, its yellowish-brown pupils turning a vivid red, extremely eerie. The refined corpse let out a strange howl, much like a night owl.
It pounced fiercely.
In that moment, its stiff body moved with surprising speed.
Almost as fast as the assassin, Poison Sting, whose head was crushed just a moment ago.
The one-eyed middle-aged man's expression became stern; he clearly hadn't expected this creature to be so fast. But he was no pushover either, for he was not an ordinary person but an ancient martial artist, a Huang Level ancient martial artist at that.