8
“ You were born under a bad star.”
He heard it. The voice, pounding against his earlobes.
“Huh? Where did he go?”
Before his eyes, the man who lost his enemy looked right and left. Then he turned around, noticed the man sitting behind and looking up at him, and readjusted his liuyedao. However—
“Huh—you’re not in the mood anymore. From the way you look…guess it was the aggressor pattern this time. Now I get it. Dang, you’ve really got the worst luck, man.”
With a sympathetic tone in his voice, the man crouched before the old man slumped on the floor. He was drooling, not even trying to look up at the man crouching above him.
“You were so healthy just a second ago, but ya aged quite a bit all at once. I’ve got no idea how many times we’ve done this, but I hope ya didn’t snuff it just from the second time? Not like there’s any way for me to check that.”
“ ll me.”
“Hmm?”
The helmeted man gave the murmuring old man a confused look. The man jerkily lifted his face to look up at the man. “Kill me…please…”
The old man yearned for it, as if that was his only salvation. The helmeted man shrugged in pity over the old man’s desperate wish.
“Poor guy. Guess a lack of appreciation for horny cuteness is enough to cause an eternal crash.”
The helmeted man rose to his feet, lightly gripped his liuyedao, and aimed for the old man’s neck. Then the blade swung uncertainly, sending the old man’s head flying in the air, an arc of bright-red blood trailing behind it.
At long last, the old man’s nightmare—
“ You were born under a bad star.”
—didn’t end.
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