"Boastful!" Amos City Lord was furious, "Someone, immediately get them—"
His words suddenly stopped as if his throat had been slashed.
A countenance of unmatched beauty appeared in his sight, but what strongly impacted Amos City Lord wasn't these extremely striking features, but the sense of oppression emanating from the person.
Amos City Lord's pupils contracted violently, his mouth agape in disbelief: "Lan, Lan Lan Lan..."
Lancelot wouldn't even spare him a moment for pleading. He simply pulled out his gun, pulled the trigger, blew at the muzzle, and holstered the gun.
The action was smooth and flawless, leaving no time for anyone to react.
"Thud!"
Amos City Lord stared blankly as his bulky figure crashed heavily to the ground, silent.
Until his death, he didn't understand how Lancelot could appear here.
"Thump," the butler who had just stood up fell back down again, not daring even to breathe.
