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Chapter 190 - 190 186 The Killing Intent at the Bottom of
Chapter 190 - 190 186 The Killing Intent at the Bottom of
?Chapter 190: Chapter 186: The Killing Intent at the Bottom of the Heart Chapter 190: Chapter 186: The Killing Intent at the Bottom of the Heart Yang Zhenshan couldn’t feel more elated in his heart.
After suppressing his frustrations for so many days, they were finally vented. His mood was as jubilant as enjoying an ice pop on a hot June day, utterly refreshing.
At this moment, Yang Zhenshan was, to some extent, taking advantage of his position to bully others.
But then again, didn’t Mr. Wang rely on the power of Duke Shou’s Mansion before?
Now, Yang Zhenshan was leveraging Zhou Lan’s influence to return all the grievances he had suffered before.
Mr. Wang’s face, dark as the deep water, stared at Yang Zhenshan, his eyes filled with intense ferocity and murderous intent, as if they were laced with poison.
Yang Zhenshan felt his gaze but remained indifferent, casually lifting his cup of tea for another delicate sip.
“Mr. Wang, you should know who I am, right?”
“More than twenty years ago, I crawled out of a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood at Black Cloud Mountain. For the past twenty years, I have lived in the countryside, enduring the torment that injuries bring each day.”
“Fortunately, I am quite lucky. My old wounds healed, so I returned to Chongshan Town!”
“On the battlefield, it is either you die or I die. I have killed no fewer than five hundred enemies, if not a thousand, on the battlefield.”
“In my eyes, that brilliant red is the most dazzling, the most eye-catching. Every time I see that resplendent red, I can’t help but feel excited and thrilled!”
“Especially when my spear pierces through an enemy’s chest, and I watch the blood blossom under the tip of my spear, it feels as if I’m witnessing a moment of splendid brilliance. Nothing in this world can compare to that kind of beauty.”
Yang Zhenshan spoke slowly, his tone very gentle, as if he was speaking of a very common thing.
But the content of his words made Mr. Wang feel a chill run down his spine.
Murder!
That was nothing unusual. As Martial Artists, who hasn’t seen blood?
But Yang Zhenshan described killing as an exquisitely splendid act, something not just anyone could stomach.
“Mr. Wang, would you like to experience this wonderful feeling?”
Yang Zhenshan raised his head, his ruddy cheeks adorned with an exceedingly gentle smile, his clear eyes brimming with a faint hint of amusement.
It was as if an elder was looking at you with expectant eyes, conveying their tender love and benevolence.
But to Mr. Wang, it felt as if Yang Zhenshan’s eyes were fixed on his chest, his gaze sharp as a spear tip, ready to pierce through his heart at any moment.
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