Tangtang blinked his innocent big eyes, tilting his head in bewilderment as he looked at Leng Yebai.
What a pity.
A perfectly handsome big brother, turns out to have something wrong with his head.
Purple lightning wrapped around cold ice needles, howling as they stabbed toward Tangtang.
Tangtang obediently stood in place, unmoving, while his agile eyes occasionally sneaked glances at Zhao He's corpse.
The blood was tantalizing his taste buds.
To him, it was like delicious cake from before the apocalypse—he had no resistance.
Leng Yebai exuded waves of chilling cold, and everyone standing behind him felt an infinite chill.
From Bai Xiqin and Tangtang's angle, that cold face would occasionally squeeze out a few ridiculous expressions.
Waggling his eyebrows and sticking out his tongue to play dead.
Like some kind of black-and-white dog.
Purple lightning and ice needles again whizzed past Tangtang's temple.
