"Not good." The middle-aged man had just missed a strike, his complexion suddenly changed dramatically, sensing Mu Chen's murderous intent, and moreover, it was right behind him.
"Too late." Mu Chen sneered, a punch landing squarely on the middle-aged man's back, sending him crashing to the ground, which even trembled from the impact. A mouthful of fresh blood spewed out.
"Don't waste us, lord, we beg for mercy." In an instant, a group of Grandmasters, without a second word, knelt down to beg for mercy, genuinely frightened.
"You wanted to cripple me just now, and now you beg for mercy. Do you think that's possible?"
"Lord, what do you mean?"
"Everyone cripple one of your own legs, and I'll spare you."
"Impossible." A dozen people declared outright, as being crippled meant they would be useless; naturally, they disagreed.
"Then I'm sorry, but I'll have to take action myself." As Mu Chen spoke, he struck immediately.
"We are over a dozen; we are not afraid of him, kill."
