"I've said it many times, the assassin should keep a low profile..." the man continued to sigh.

"On ordinary assassins need to be low-key. We are assassins of the Brotherhood!"

Speaking of this, the young woman raised a finger with great enthusiasm and began to teach her companions "history teaching": "Do you know? According to my investigation, the original founder of the Brotherhood should be a man named 'Bayek' thousands of years ago."

"You have said it several times." The disfigured man couldn't help but hold his forehead.

Ignoring the other party's complaints, the young woman continued: "But this Bayek is not an assassin, he is the 'guardian' of that country. The residents of the entire country know him. People handed over various commissions to him, and he accepted them all."

"So what do you want to express?" The disfigured man stared at his unreliable companion.

"Assassin does not have to be low-key, let alone low-key is not my style of behavior." The woman smiled slightly: "Think about it, if we can sneak into the heavily guarded Yanfeng Palace and assassinate the young lord, we will become legendary assassins left on the Brotherhood record in the future, and after death, we can also be buried in the tomb where six legendary assassins are buried!"

"I don't want to talk about things after death." The man raised his hand and interrupted the woman's long speech: "Can you finish it quickly? Don't make any more troubles."

"I know, I know..."

The woman waved her hands irritably, as if she was not having fun yet. She bent down and dragged the bodies of two Yanfeng soldiers to the center of the living room. Then she picked up a porcelain bottle on the table and took out a finely crafted carving knife from it:

"If you want to play, just play big, the doomsday of Yanfeng City is coming soon!"

While speaking, the woman's face once again showed a cheerful smile, and she pulled out a wrinkled yellow book from her arms. The cover was painted with a giant scorpion, and a line of small words were written next to it:

"Sand King".

"Can these two sacrifices really summon the gods of the Sand City?" The disfigured man said half-believingly, focusing his eyes on the book in the woman's hands: "You're not fooling me, right?"

"Who said it was two sacrifices? Didn't the owner still be tied to the basement? Bring her up and we'll have three sacrifices."

“Is there any difference between three and two?”

Although the man was still questioning, he saw that the woman had already started to prepare and walked into the warehouse behind and opened the wooden board leading to the cellar.

The woman curled up and lying on the ground was still whimpering quietly, her hair was muddy, and blood flowed down from the wound on her forehead, dyeing her originally fair skin red.

Seeing the man's disfigured face, the original owner of the house tied up cried even harder. He looked down at the miserable appearance of the woman, and the man licked his broken lips:
Chapter completed!