Lu Yanchuan never expected these people to dispatch so many men just to kidnap Qiao Yi.
From the ninth floor onwards, almost every floor was guarded. Lu Yanchuan fought his way up, floor by floor, initially showing mercy to his opponents, but his patience was gradually worn thin until he started to kill with a single blow.
In a building of thirteen floors, by the time Lu Yanchuan had knocked out the two guards on the twelfth floor, his stick was already covered in fresh blood, and his body was gradually stained as well.
With each step Lu Yanchuan took, he left a blood-red footprint on the stairs. Some of the blood was his; some belonged to others. When a blood-soaked Lu Yanchuan appeared in front of Jenfors, Jenfors even thought he was looking at a demon that crawled out of hell!
"You! Don't come any closer!"
Step by step, Lu Yanchuan walked forward, the stick dragging on the ground making a screeching noise, as if the devil's low chant was coming from hell.
