Chapter 78

A middle-aged man took out his phone, "I'll call the police, or that young man will be in trouble."

A young man beside him said, "Brother! Don't meddle in other people's affairs. Such arrogance can only come from the Green Gang." The middle-aged man's body trembled at this, and he put the phone back in his pocket.

Yang Luo's eyes narrowed slightly, and he walked up to the scar-faced man, saying, "Go back and tell Kun Si to wash his head and wait for me."

"F*ck you, who do you think you are, daring to talk to us like that?" The scar-faced man cursed, his eyes flashing with hostility.

Yang Luo chuckled. The scar-faced man only felt a blur in front of him, and then his throat was gripped by a strong hand. A cold, emotionless voice sounded in his ear, "No one can talk to me, Yang Luo, like this. You! Can say goodbye to this world."

"Crack"

A terrifying sound of bone breaking echoed, and the scar-faced man's head twisted to one side, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Yang Luo threw the body to the side, his right arm trembling as a tiger-tooth military knife slid into his hand.

"Today, I'll show you trash what the art of killing is."

"A murder...," a shrill scream, comparable to a soprano, rang out. The crowd immediately became agitated, scattering with a rustle and running to the opposite side of the street, watching from a distance.

Yang Luo frowned. The six men standing there felt the无形aura emanating from Yang Luo, making the surrounding air seem to churn, pressing down on them with a suffocating sensation, their chests feeling heavy and oppressed.

Yang Luo's lips curled into a cold smile, "You had the guts to come find me, but you don't have the courage to raise your knives?"

The six men looked at the lifeless body of the scar-faced man on the ground, then at Yang Luo. One of the big men shouted, "F*ck! I've never been afraid of anyone. Brothers, he's just one man, I don't believe he can beat all six of us."

Another big man gritted his teeth and roared, "Kill him." He raised his knife and swung it down at Yang Luo's head. The other five men exchanged glances, shouted in unison, and raised their knives.

Bei Yin Yao in the car saw everything clearly and screamed, "Yang Luo, be careful!" Just as she shouted, her eyes suddenly widened.

She saw Yang Luo grab the wrist of the first big man holding the knife, and his right hand quickly slashed across the man's throat. Then, he tapped the ground with his left foot, turned half a circle to face the second person, and the cold blade flashed again at the man's throat. This was followed by the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth person. When he reached the sixth person, the knife stopped.

At this moment, a bizarre scene unfolded. Five men's throats split open with a three-centimeter-long seam, perfectly like a surgeon's incision. Blood slowly oozed out, and as the cuts in their throats grew larger, the blood began to spurt.

"Clang, clang,..."

Five machetes fell to the ground, and one by one, the men fell backward, stiff and straight. Even in death, the fear in their eyes did not fade, their eyeballs bulging out, bloodshot.

The last man's body trembled uncontrollably, his eyes filled with terror. A pungent smell filled the air. Yang Luo looked down and saw water marks on the ground, and the man's trouser legs were still dripping water.

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