This is a 21-year-old young man who cannot bear the weight.

blacksmith shop.

Li Xianzong sat on the ground, gasping for breath.

He was covered in blood, his left arm was twisted, and he had multiple stab wounds and blunt force trauma.

The other five companions were also scarred, lying on the ground, or sitting against the wall, breathing in the air greedily.

Surrounding them were the overturned forging table, the cracked stove, the charcoal scattered all over the place, the broken ironware... and the blacksmith Wang whose head had been beheaded.

He fell on a pile of red burning coals, his blood melted into the coals, and a few meters away was the head that had been beheaded by Li Xianzong himself.

Besides Blacksmith Wang, there was another corpse�a strong man with a bald head.

The skinny middle-aged man got up on his knees, kicked the body of the bald man, and cursed:

"This is dead, I don't know his name yet."

Li Xianzong gasped, grinned and said: "Why do you need to know the name? People like us, who lick blood from the edge of a knife, will naturally die when they deserve to die, and they deserve to die."

"That's right, if you know the name, then you are a friend, why bother."

"Hey, it doesn't matter if you die, die early and detach yourself, stay away from this fucking world."

Several other companions chimed in.

They never cared about life and death, the enemy's, irrelevant people's, including their own.

People who are immersed in killing have a numbness to death that ordinary people don't have.

Li Xianzong waved at the skinny middle-aged man and said, "Go to the shop and have a look, there should be clues inside."

The skinny middle-aged man immediately entered the depths of the shop, returned a few minutes later, and said in astonishment:

"Boss, this shop is a bit weird."

There are two large houses in the backyard of the blacksmith shop. The one on the right is the living area of the blacksmith, and the one on the right is the warehouse for stacking ironware.

The skinny middle-aged man first brought Li Xianzong and others to the warehouse full of ironware, and pushed open the dusty warehouse door for a long time, a rusty and dull smell came over his face.

Li Xianzong stepped over the threshold and entered the warehouse, his gaze swept across the warehouse calmly.

I saw all kinds of instruments of torture in the warehouse, including razors, steel needles, scorpions, soldering irons, shackles, tiger stools, and so on.

Li Xianzong narrowed his eyes, this is not the same as the "instrument of torture" of that perverted woman Yi Chuanmei, the things in the warehouse are used to torture people, real instruments of torture.

Most of them were dusty and rusty, and some were so new that they looked like they had just been made.

"A blacksmith, why are there so many instruments of torture in the warehouse?"

The one who spoke was a strong young man with ordinary facial features and facing the unruly. He was not a good-natured young man at first glance, he was the kind of young man who was aggressive and ruthless.

But this kind of temperament is unremarkable in the evil profession. The only characteristic of this young man is the lack of his left ear, which seems to have been cut off by a sharp knife.

The skinny middle-aged man said:

"Not only that, but if you look carefully, these instruments of torture are old and new. Blacksmith Wang is still making instruments of torture." JrNovels.com