Shortly after the explosion, a black man with a scruffy beard slowly stood up.
He looked at the mushroom cloud rising from the valley below, took a Cuban cigar from his worn backpack, and lit it with pleasure.
The flickering Mars reflected the cold smile on his face.
Clearly, he was quite satisfied with his recent masterpiece.
His name was Johns Jone.
An assassin.
Assassins might be the most dangerous profession in the world. A slight negligence could cost them their lives.
Yet, he had been doing this for nineteen years.
In nineteen years, he had truly become the King of Assassins.
Not because he killed the most people, but because everyone he killed was a big shot who could make the Earth tremble with a stomp, including those hailed as divine legends and Divine-level Masters.
Conventionally, a King of Assassins at such a pinnacle shouldn't have any friends.
But he did!
This friend was Tang Sect Master Tang Leiting, who had just perished at the hands of Li Chen.
