[ BOOK 4 ] LMW [ 591 - 731 ]

614 : Identity Guessing

Chapter 614

Identity Guessing
Translated by Kollumceti of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

The ground was completely covered with fresh blood and the bloody lumps of meat showed that there had recently been a scene of a one-sided abuse here. Of the two corpses here, none of the two were intact.

All this was the masterpiece of a single man. If not for the blood-stained blade in his hands, it was hard to imagine that he had just tortured two people to death with his clean, white robes that did not have a hint of dust.

The man flicked off the blood on his blade. This was the first time he killed with a blade. It felt very different his previous methods of killing people. Although it was inferior to his previous direct and efficient method, it did not matter once in a while. Of course, it would be better to do it while carrying his wife on his back.

“Not bad!”

A bantering tone carrying strong interest rang from behind the man.

The white-robed man tilted his head and glanced at the person who spoke, yet there was no surprise on his face. This was none but the man in the black robe who had just been chasing the two other members of the Black Spider.

Since he was here, it meant that the two men had been properly settled in the nether world and were reunited with their comrades. This speed was really quite fast.

The black man still carried the fire stick (烧火棍). The color of his clothes was too dark to tell if there was any bloodstains. However, the scent of blood wafting off him was stronger than before and there were even some bloodstains on the purple fire stick.

“A man consecutively cleaned-out seven or eight Immortal’s Caves within fifteen days more than a month ago. Was that you?”

The black-robed man looked askance at the man in white. Although he had asked a question, there was an obvious certainty in his tone. It seemed that he would not believe it even if the man in white did not admit it.

The white robed man’s leisurely gaze moved from the scimitar to the other party, sizing him up with a shallow look. The corners of his mouth slowly curved a little, showing a faint smile, “So?”

“I am very interested in you. Fight a round with me.” The man in the black robe had a insolent expression as he stared at the man in white with arrogant eyes. He was full of vigor and was obviously a battle-manic. With a look, one could tell that he was a man who incessantly immersed himself in bloody slaughter.

The white robed man glanced at him indifferently, “You are no match for me.”

“Ha ha!” The man in black laughed instead of getting angry. He was an arbitrary and tyrannical man who had lived for a long time. This was not the first time someone had said this to him, but this person was the only one who made him believe his words. This was because the man in white was right – his current self was really not his match.

“You are right, but I still want to give it a try.”

The black robed man was not a masochist. He knew that he was not a match for his opponent yet he still clashed head-on with him. The reason why he wanted to fight the man was because he firmly believed that only by fighting could he become more powerful. Making a breakthrough in the midst of danger and bursting out at the moment of life or death. This was his motto in life.

“I’m busy!” The man in white threw this sentence at him before he turned and walked away.

The figure of the black robed man flashed and he was blocking the way of the white robed man when he reappeared. He stubbornly insisted, “That’s won’t do. You must have a fight with me.”