Finally, Zhao Longhu couldn't stand it anymore. He silently crept behind a disciple and clawed his hand like a knife into the person's body, seizing the scorching heart and suddenly exerting force.
"Bang!"
The heart was crushed. The deceased disciple's pupils dilated, turning his head, staring fixedly at his second senior brother, Zhao Longhu.
Zhao Longhu felt neither guilt nor regret. His entire focus was on the plum blossom announcing death.
That plum blossom, as the disciple was "gutted" by Zhao Longhu, instantly dimmed and withered, but simultaneously, no other disciples' stomachs swelled.
"What Zhou Xuan said is actually true."
Zhao Longhu muttered— as long as they proactively killed a disciple when the plum blossom appeared, no other disciple would die randomly.
"Zhao Longhu, what are you doing?"
Brother Gourd's reprimanding voice came over,
