C257 Assassination

"Holy Dragon Cult! Always the Holy Dragon Cult!" A cold snort erupted next to Wu Ziming, startling him. He spun around to find the Sect Master, clad in pajamas, standing atop a distant pavilion.

Yet, the pajamas were adorned with cartoonish croaks. To the uninitiated, he might seem like an avid fan of old-school animation. But recalling his own master's penchant for bunny slippers