As their figures drew closer and closer,
Zhang Xiaohao made his move.
With a tap of his foot, he stepped on the iron rod on the ground and seized it in his hand.
The iron rod was swung out, its speed fast as lightning.
A series of snapping sounds ensued.
By the time Zhang Xiaohao stopped again, not a single thug was standing around him.
"Ah..."
Shrill screams, like those of a pig being slaughtered, burst from the mouths of these thugs.
With broken arms, these thugs writhed on the ground like dying dogs.
"Go to hell, you brat!"
At that moment, a roar suddenly sounded from behind.
A pitch-black muzzle was aimed at Zhang Xiaohao.
Brother Mao was about to pull the trigger.
Whoosh!
A powerful sound of piercing air drove into his entire arm, impaling it.
"Ah!" A ghastly scream immediately erupted from his mouth.
Bang!
Before he could react, Zhang Xiaohao had already swayed to his front.
He grabbed his head and smashed it against the wall.