The car rolled and roared on the road, with blazing gold-red flames swirling like a gyroscope. The broken steel structure parts could pierce through a person if they struck.
Faced with such an attack, Ye Qingzhou's eyes remained calm as water, showing no signs of panic.
Clang~
With a gentle swing of the sharp sword, the car tearing through the air was instantly sliced in half, splitting from the middle, the cut smooth as a mirror. The wreckage slammed into the wall behind Ye Qingzhou.
The old wooden house was immediately smashed to smithereens, collapsing with a loud crash, burying Arno, the hostage, amidst the ruins.
Ye Qingzhou's footsteps remained unhurried, not even a corner of his garment was touched.
Cold, precise, each slash was clean and swift.
The burning car ignited the house, hot red flames rising from Ye Qingzhou's back to his head, mirroring the icy sword blade.
