"Slap, slap..."
After a while, Hao Jian patted the dust off himself and glanced indifferently at Bamboo Pole lying on the ground. At this moment, his eyes were wide open, as if refusing to close in death, his bright red blood staining the nearby mud road.
However, for such scenes, Hao Jian and his companions had long been accustomed to them. The number of people who had died at his hands before wasn't small, and sometimes people like Brother Lion and Ling Hai, Ling He would even participate in wars in small countries, where seeing dead bodies was common.
"Do any of you know how to fly a plane?"
After dealing with this annoying guy, a smile returned to Hao Jian's face as he asked the group, looking at Brother Lion and the others, with a smile.
"Of course, it's a required skill for us."
