C181 Instant Kill!

A bead of cold sweat stealthily traced a path down Situ Zhu's forehead.

Before him stood a young man, exuding an air of effortless nonchalance, still cradling a snow fox of apparent fine quality in one arm. His other hand, however, was poised with a sword finger aimed at his own palm.

The other four men lay scattered on the ground, faces etched with confusion.

"What..