The other people's gazes gathered on him.
Xun Xiaohuan looked surprised. He hadn't expected to see an acquaintance here.
This figure slowly walked to the side of Sword White Clothes, who lay collapsed on the steps.
"Su... Buxian... it's you."
Sword White Clothes weakly lifted his eyes, extremely feeble, "You... survived, huh?"
"But sorry... looks like you're going to die now."
That sounded just like a villain.
Su Qi flashed a smile, "Then do you have any last words? Like turning Sword Flower into a subordinate organization of The Hustlers Club, or entrusting me with important equipment. I can fulfill those wishes for you."
"Pfft!"
Sword White Clothes suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood.
It wasn't because of Su Qi's words; he was genuinely spitting blood.
This guy was now utterly drained—health, Spiritual Energy, Physical Strength all reduced to a state a mere slap could end.