"Don't you dare slander me!" Wu Decheng was still unwilling to admit it.
Li Banfeng smiled and said, "You're already here with me, yet you still can't be honest? I'll tell you the truth: if you hadn't escaped so quickly today, your corpse would be lying in the street."
Wu Decheng fell silent.
Li Banfeng, holding the Teapot, walked over. "Why so quiet? Throat parched? Care for a cup of tea?"
Wu Decheng suddenly sprang up, trying to fight Li Banfeng to the death. A phonograph needle was attached to his leg, and he still intended to engage in close combat. But this was a Home Cultivator's residence; he had no chance to make a move.
Li Banfeng didn't even sit up from the bed; he just lifted a foot and kicked him to the floor.
Wu Decheng rose again, his right hand fumbling inside his robes, as if to pull out a Weapon.
Li Banfeng drew his Sickle and swiftly made several cuts on Wu Decheng's body. As poison seeped in, Wu Decheng couldn't move anymore.
