Watching Ye Wushuang's foot poised to step onto the twentieth floor, the expressions of the onlookers turned utterly foul.
The moment he stepped up, their bet would be lost.
However, just as his foot was about to touch the floor, he unexpectedly pulled it back.
He spun around, his eyes dark and grim.
"Let her go," Ye Wushuang spat out coldly. The very air seemed to freeze, thick with killing intent and biting frost.
The crowd, their faces already grim, turned to follow his gaze.
Among the Cyan Race members, they saw the sole woman, Qing Shui, holding a cyan Treasure Sword to Ye Rou's neck.
No one present had anticipated this.
Qiu Mo and Qianling, who were walking right beside Ye Rou, hadn't even noticed that she'd been taken hostage.
When they came to their senses, they were instantly furious.
All eyes were fixed on Qing Shui. She offered a faint smile. "No need to worry. I'm just joking around. You can all continue climbing the tower."
