"Clang."
The heavy cargo container was ripped open like a flimsy cardboard box under Fang Zheng's single strike, revealing the inside...
"Ahh———!! Don't kill me don't kill me don't kill me!!"
Within the iron box, a girl around seventeen or eighteen years old, dressed as a nun, was curled up with a deathly pallor, muttering to herself incessantly. And it was no wonder she looked so terrified; the pitch-black greatsword in Fang Zheng's hand had nearly grazed her neck as it stabbed into the container behind her.
If it had been off by just an inch, it probably would have been blood spatter on the spot.
Looking at the girl before him, Fang Zheng casually withdrew the longsword. Feeling the cold blade move away from her neck, the girl revealed a bitter smile and looked up at Fang Zheng and Kurumi.
"Oh dear, although I'm very grateful that you two came to rescue me, could you please not scare me like that? There was a moment when I really thought I was done for..."
