Quanxi didn't even need to reach for the arrows beneath her eyepatch as she would when facing a powerful foe.
Using the power of a Weapon Human against trash of this caliber?
That would be an insult to her title as the 'First Devil Hunter'.
Zheng—!
A clear, crisp ring of a blade—the vibration of metal slicing through the air.
At some point, a simple, ancient-looking short sword had appeared in Quanxi's hand.
In the next second, the tall, cold, silver-haired beauty vanished.
No, she didn't vanish.
She was simply too fast.
In this narrow inventory corridor, a one-sided slaughter began.
There was no flashy magic, nor any deafening roars.
Only a silver afterimage—a god-like speed that the human eye could barely capture.
Shiu! Shiu! Shiu!
The bald guy didn't even have time to pull the trigger of his shotgun before he felt his vision spin—
He actually saw his own headless corpse slowly collapsing.
Quanxi's figure moved through the crowd like a ghost. With just the swings of her short sword and her transcendent martial arts, she turned the term 'Russian Mafia' into history in just a few short seconds.
Blood splattered against the moldy walls, painting an abstract mural titled 'massacre'.
"Oh, right, Quanxi-chan... leave some alive for me," Makima's voice reminded her inside her head.
After all, these people were meant to be taken in by Fisk; each one of these lives belonged to Makima.
So, when everything returned to silence.
The short sword in Quanxi's hand didn't have a single drop of blood on it, because the speed of her swing was faster than the spray of blood.
Aside from the few instigators who had been sliced into neat pieces, the remaining dozens of mobsters were now kneeling in pools of blood, trembling so hard they didn't even dare to scream.
Because that peerless white-haired woman stood atop a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, looking down at them with indifference.
Hubby is so handsome.
These were the 'fresh blood bags' the Fisk Group was about to receive... On the other side of the battlefield.
Reze was sitting on a wooden crate, tossing a green grenade in her hand, her legs in black stockings swinging boredly.
She was slacking off—one could even say she was blatantly loafing on the job.
Reze would obviously obey Sumire's every word, but that didn't mean she was willing to work for Makima.
Her role today was very clear—the supervisor.
As long as Quanxi could finish the job, she couldn't be bothered to lift a finger, using it as a small way to vent her dissatisfaction with Makima.
Quanxi casually flicked her blade and sheathed the short sword at her waist. Her breathing wasn't even disturbed, as if she had just gone for a stroll.
She turned around, her exposed eye looking at the loafing Reze.
------------------------
I've posted 70+ chapters in advance on Patreon.
Webnovel updates will still be daily, as usual.
It might not seem tempting right now but who knows what the future holds?
[email protected]/SolyuraMT
"And If you're enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!"