"Woo woo!"
In the moonlight, Zhong Lin held a thief who had just climbed over the wall, his right hand clutching the man's neck.
Fear filled the thief's eyes, and though he wanted to beg for mercy, his choked throat could only manage muffled sounds.
"It's getting more chaotic!"
Zhong Lin sighed, his fingers exerting force. With a crack, the life in the thief's eyes faded away.
Zhong Lin glanced at the short knife at the thief's waist, murmuring in a cold, barely audible voice, "Who brings a knife to steal? Leave it behind in your next life."
Zhong Lin wouldn't be so ruthless with petty thieves, considering they're only trying to survive. But carrying a knife was different—it's not burglary, it's robbery, and the penalties differ drastically.
He leapt up, grabbing the thief's body, disappearing into the courtyard, and found a hidden spot to dispose of it, unconcerned about being traced back.
