Wu Xiaode jumped out of the second-floor window of the disco and landed in a secluded, deserted alley.
He lifted his foot and checked the sole of his shoe.
There was no blood on it.
Good.
He truly was merciful, having restrained himself when it came to killing.
—No need to throw away these shoes.
He walked satisfied toward the exit of the alley.
"What's the point in doing all this? These people don't seem to know you at all,"
the voice asked.
"I said I'd wipe out everyone around him, and I meant it," Wu Xiaode shrugged.
"But he's already dead," the voice said, puzzled.
"We who roam the jianghu must keep our word, or else people will think I'm a liar, and then my words will carry no weight in the future," Wu Xiaode said.
According to the middle-aged man's phone chat records—
he had directly found their gang's headquarters.
But at least he had some mercy, merely breaking legs of those who hadn't committed utterly heinous crimes.
