Where did the system come from? Why does it exist? And why him...?
Occasionally, when the night was quiet, Shen Qian would think about it, but at this stage, the question was meaningless to him.
"call!"
Chen Qian let out a long breath and stared at Prisoner Number Seven, who was gradually becoming more and more dangerous.
He must have a weakness.
Moreover, this weakness is not insignificant.
He was very determined before sinking.
Even if Huo Ling'er has opened four apertures and her strength has surpassed that of an ordinary quasi-martial artist, she has only been around for a short time. Dealing with a desperate criminal with the cultivation of a beginner martial artist is a losing proposition for her.
Liu Changqing would not arrange a situation that is bound to result in defeat.
"Let's go with the left leg."
Number Seven muttered to himself, and in the next moment he disappeared like the wind.
A murderous aura swept over him, but Shen Qian remained unmoved.
His gaze was incredibly focused, and he saw it the instant that number seven moved.
His left leg was incredibly stiff, as if it couldn't keep up with his right leg's exertion, but he started moving so fast that it was hard to tell.
"Then let's go with the left leg."
A thought flashed through Shen Qian's mind. He clenched his fist, sticking out the knuckle of his middle finger, and poured all his strength into one point... It wasn't as perfect as the system, but it was enough.
Prisoner number seven reached for Shenqian's throat, but quickly let his hand fall limply.
"Heh..."
The suppressed screams turned into indistinguishable syllables. Prisoner Number Seven clutched his knee, which had been struck hard before he was thrown down, and collapsed to the ground like mud, breathing heavily.
His eyes rolled back, and he seemed about to faint from the immense pain.
The huge venue fell silent instantly; you could hear a pin drop.
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