"The Night Watchman with a mask?"
Ji Zheng appeared to recognize the other person. He slowly lowered his hand holding the camera, his complexion turning extremely poor: "There's only one Night Watchman with a mask in this building..."
The Hatred Black Fire spread like the wings of a butterfly, scattering countless Dream Dust around the mask.
The half-squatting Night Watchman slowly stood up, his gaze moving to behind Han Fei. That mask seemed to possess life, showing a sinister smile: "Night Watchman on duty, those who come close shall die."
The brilliant Dream Dust fell to the twenty-ninth floor, and the Black Fire burned on the flesh walls. The gaze of the masked Night Watchman seemed like a cycle of life and death, pulling those who met his eyes into nightmares.
"It's getting a bit tricky." Han Fei vaguely saw the figure of a Butterfly on the masked Night Watchman, a fearsome opponent he had encountered before.
