"So, does that mean this life of yours now belongs to me?" Mo Jiao's violet eyes glinted coldly as he stared directly at the bald man.
"You saved my pathetic life; of course, it belongs to you." The bald man clenched his fists, his palms damp with cold sweat.
"What was your name again?" Mo Jiao mused aloud.
The bald man quickly replied, "My name is Wang Nuo."
"Wang Nuo, is it?" Sitting in the crimson chair, Mo Jiao tilted his chin slightly upward. "Then right now, die for me."
"Wh-What?!" The bald man was horrified.
"Did you not hear me? Let me repeat, die by your own hand." Black mist began to rise around Mo Jiao's figure. He rolled his wrist and smirked with raised brows. "Or should I assume you don't want me to do it personally?"
"Mo Jiao! Aren't you going too far?!"
