As he spoke, he wiped his right hand across his waist. The hand crossbow Wuxin had thrown to him was still there. Without looking, he shot an arrow towards the mouth of the alley.
A young man closest to the mouth was slowly edging his way out. A black shadow skimmed past his shoulder and shot towards a lantern hanging on the eaves opposite, bursting into a flame that illuminated his pale face.
The fabric on his shoulder shattered, revealing a pale arm, from which blood flowed. Several moments passed before the young man felt his legs weaken and he sat down on the ground. He wanted to scream, but was too frightened to make a sound, feeling a warmth in his pants.
He had never been so terrified.
Wang Anfeng still didn't look over, his expression calm as he gazed at the tattooed burly man, then re-holstered the crossbow at his waist.
