Yang Fei's voice carried a flattering tone.

"How could I deceive you? That would be seeking death, wouldn't it?"

"How about this, I'll take you there now, but after you get the money, you have to let us go."

Mosika laughed heartily, "Of course."

"I've already said, I'm a merciful businessman. I only seek wealth, not blood."

He ordered some men to escort Yang Fei to the cave where the gold was buried.

At the same time, Mosika commanded his troops to guard the remaining Changfeng Squad members.

Three Swords and the others watched as Mosika actually believed Yang Fei's words.

Their gazes at Mosika were like looking at a dead person.

Mad Blade raised his hand, his voice also flattering.

"Sir, let me go with them."

"I worry that our friend here might get scared and forget the location of the cave."

Yang Fei understood and nodded repeatedly.

"Yes, let him come with me. We just arrived here and might actually forget the hiding spot."

Mosika's voice hesitated for a moment before the broadcast came through.

"Alright, but don't try any tricks, or everyone here dies."

Three Swords, Long Xia, and the others exchanged glances, mourning for Mosika in their hearts.

Letting Yang Fei go was already a big mistake.

Now, even letting Mad Blade, this deadly god, go was practically suicidal.

A ten-man squad came over, their black gun barrels aimed at Yang Fei and Mad Blade's heads.

The squad leader sent two soldiers to search Yang Fei and Mad Blade.

The soldiers found and confiscated their daggers, military spikes, cigarettes, and lighters.

A soldier hesitated as he found a deck of cards.

Yang Fei chuckled.

"Sir, we're just gamblers. When we have nothing to do, we gather to play cards."

"Could you be so kind as to leave me the cards?"

The squad leader snorted, waved his hand, and signaled the soldiers to tie up Yang Fei and Mad Blade.

The soldiers took out a leather strap and bound Yang Fei and Mad Blade's hands behind their backs.

The leather strap wrapped around several times, binding tightly.

During this process, both Yang Fei and Mad Blade remained very cooperative.

The other Changfeng team members, however, all lowered their heads.

They exchanged smiles whose meanings were lost to outsiders.

Mosika had been highly vigilant.

Each Changfeng team member had at least two rifles aimed at their heads.

But seeing how cooperative Yang Fei and Mad Blade were, and how frightened the others seemed,

he let his guard down.

The Changfeng team members had their hands bound and were gathered together.

Around them, many armed men formed a circular perimeter, their gun barrels aimed at their heads.

Not far away, a Big Viper machine gun was set up, its barrel pointing at the group.

But Yang Fei and Mad Blade were escorted towards the Northeast.

Minutes later, they disappeared into the woods.

They walked past a clearing and into a pine forest.

Amidst the sparse pine trees, a path led forward to the left.

After about three kilometers,

Yang Fei, who was walking ahead, raised three fingers behind his back.

Then his fingers began to curl down one by one.

Mad Blade walked with his head down, looking very submissive.

But his eyes were fixed on Yang Fei's fingers.

When the third finger bent down,

he suddenly stopped, fell to the ground, and rolled around, moaning in pain.

The leading squad leader was startled.

He motioned to stop the soldiers and strode over.

At the same time, the dark muzzle of his gun was aimed at Yang Fei's head.

"What's wrong with you?"

Mad Blade took two steps forward, deliberately blocking the five soldiers behind him.

He looked somewhat panicked.

"It's bad, sir. My brother has a twisted gut. What should we do?"

The squad leader paused, then a sinister smile appeared on his face.

"Since he's sick, you can still lead us to the cave with the gold."

As he spoke, he loaded a round with a click.

The squad leader's gun was aimed at Yang Fei's head, ready to pull the trigger.

Mad Blade feigned fear, stepping back repeatedly and waving his hands.

"Sir, please... don't shoot."

The squad leader paid no heed, his finger on the trigger, about to fire.

At this moment, a heavy force silently immobilized the five men in front.

The squad leader's finger was on the trigger, but he couldn't muster any strength.

He wanted to shout but couldn't make a sound.

The five soldiers stood like statues.

They looked at Yang Fei with eyes full of fear.

Yang Fei suddenly leaped up, breaking the leather strap with his Dark Force.

Mad Blade blocked the soldiers' view, his broad back like an iron tower.

The Martial Arts Energy Field's power lasted only two or three seconds.

After two or three seconds, the squad leader and the five soldiers immediately reacted.

But it was too late.

Before they could pull the trigger,

Yang Fei's deck of cards slashed through each soldier's throat like lightning.

Hiss!

Five sounds like air escaping tires intertwined into a longer hiss.

The soldiers' throats and vocal cords were all cut, blood gushing out.

Yang Fei's movements were indescribably fast.

By the time the fifth man's throat spurted blood,

the remaining five soldiers noticed the commotion.

But before they could pull the trigger, Mad Blade leaped into the air, attacking swiftly.

His feet stepped on a pine tree, and his body shot backward like a massive siege hammer.

Bang!

With a dull thud, the first man had his chest shattered by Mad Blade's headbutt.

He crashed backward, taking down three men behind him like bowling pins.

The last man staggered back a couple of steps.

He aimed his rifle at Mad Blade on the ground, about to pull the trigger.

Hiss!

A card sliced through the air, severing his trigger finger, sending blood flying.

The man screamed, instinctively clutching his wound.

At that moment, Mad Blade, rolling on the ground, flipped up and locked his legs around the man's neck, twisting hard.

Crack!

The man fell down.

His neck twisted like a braid, his eyes bulging like dead fish, blood oozing from his mouth.

In an instant, Yang Fei killed five men, while Mad Blade killed two.

Their killing was a form of artistry, like an American Panther's hunt, brimming with wild beauty.

The three remaining soldiers stared at Yang Fei in shock.

The deck in his hand dripped with blood, its edges soaked and frayed.

They couldn't believe their eyes.

A simple card, in this pretty boy's hand, could be as sharp as a knife.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.