The sound of footsteps crunching on gravel moved in a slow and persistent direction, with the person seemingly making no effort to conceal their position, leaving their body exposed in Xiao Lin's line of sight.
"I see you, little ant!" The man suddenly halted his steps, turning his back to Xiao Lin. "You killed Shuang Shuang! I like you; that bitch should have gone to Hell long ago. Come over, baby, come to me."
Repulsive words, unbearable laughter; Xiao Lin crouched expressionlessly behind a pile of bricks. Sometimes on the battlefield, language is the best weapon of attack; any tone and phrasing, if used appropriately, can easily breach the enemy's heart and break through defenses unexpectedly.
This man loved psychological warfare. Every word he spoke and every step he took was calculated and planned. With his back to Xiao Lin, the man stepped forward a few steps, picked up a brick, and held it in his hand. "Here I come, little ant."
