"President, it seems you don't need to lift a finger. Leave it to me."
As soon as he finished speaking, the man pulled out a dagger and disappeared into the white mist.
He moved with incredible speed, and within the white mist, he felt as if he were in his element.
"President, can he go by himself? This Fang Xiu doesn't seem as simple as he appears." The speaker was a man with a scar on his face, holding two guns.
Ma Wenbin stared at Fang Xiu with a gloomy expression and said coldly, "Let him test the waters first. You wait for an opportunity to find a weakness and kill him directly with a spiritual bullet."
And you, Old Zhao, hurry up and cast a weakening curse on Fang Xiu. This kid is too calm; something's not right."
The man named Lao Zhao was very refined-looking, wearing gold-rimmed glasses and possessing a scholarly air.
"Yes, Chairman." Old Zhao responded, then stretched out his palm towards Fang Xiu in the white mist, and a subtle spiritual fluctuation instantly struck Fang Xiu.
Fang Xiu felt as if his body had been hollowed out in an instant.
I felt like I had a severe cold, and I couldn't muster any energy at all.
The scene became extremely dangerous for a moment.
The Mist Concealment ability user was hiding in the shadows, constantly approaching Fang Xiu's back, attempting to launch a sneak attack.
The man with two guns had already raised them, aiming them at Fang Xiu through the fog, waiting for the moment he would reveal a weakness.
The man with the gold-rimmed glasses continuously cast a weakening curse, leaving Fang Xiu completely powerless.
Meanwhile, Ma Wenbin, the president of the Bright Club, was secretly eyeing the situation covetously.
Suddenly, the man hidden in the mist moved, his figure as elusive as a ghost, stabbing fiercely towards Fang Xiu's back.
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