"Rules."
Master Hao Ming looked on indifferently, a sinister grin tugging at his lips: "Now you remember the rules, huh? Go argue slowly with Brother Chu Xi down there."
The other disciples, though momentarily stunned, quickly came to their senses. Following the senior brother's lead is never wrong.
In an instant, under the incredulous gaze of He Ming Bodhisattva, seven or eight magic artifacts, bearing blinding light, came crashing toward him mercilessly!
"You all—"
His shrill voice of accusation was abruptly cut off. Two fists are no match for four hands, let alone six people besieging one.
The robust golden body was swiftly torn to shreds by the magic artifacts, leaving not a single Samurai Arhat alive.
"Thank you, Brother Hao Ming!"
Gazing at the scattered corpses, the female disciple gratefully bowed to Master Hao Ming.
