The heavy iron door let out a dull CREAK as it was pushed open from the outside.
Yang Yuan strode in.
Today, she had changed into a set of dark, close-fitting attire. The pair of silver-white claws she usually wore at her waist were gone. Her black hair was tied up with a simple silver hairpin, and a few loose strands fell beside her cheeks, casting faint shadows under the dim lamplight.
Her lovely face was expressionless, but her eyes held a chill deeper than usual.
"The Tiejiang Gang…"
The Iron Fist Sect Elder on the far left lifted his head, his voice as hoarse as sandpaper.
"What in the world do you want?"
The Tiejiang Gang had captured them but not killed them, which gave him a vague sense of unease.
Yang Yuan didn't answer.
She walked slowly to the Elder and raised her right hand, placing it on top of his head.
Her slender, fair palm was a stark contrast to the Elder's withered complexion.
The Elder's body shuddered violently.
"You—!"
