"Not bad eyesight, but... since you know I kill and steal treasures, are you here to die?"
Pulling aside the curtain, Wang Junze slowly stepped out of the carriage, coldly retorting.
Peng Ru and her companions had already changed clothes, yet the opponent could still easily recognize their identity. Undoubtedly, they must have been at the Netherworld Auction last night.
Yesterday, the commotion between the little fat man and the masked man was seen by everyone. The one who finally obtained these female disciples of the Profound Moon Sword Sect was naturally the victor of that fight. Under such circumstances, anyone daring enough to follow them wouldn't be weak.
Wang Junze's gaze fell on the leader of the group, and he couldn't help but slightly raise an eyebrow.
The man appeared to be around forty or fifty years old. Crucially, he lacked the aura of someone of high status, resembling more a butler or servant.
