Zhao Qingqing turned to Xia Tian and said: "Master, can you save Xiaojun?

"She is the cause of all the trouble. Why save her?"

Xia Tian yawned lazily, obviously not having a good impression of Xu Xiaojun.

Zhao Qingqing held Xia Tian's arm and said coquettishly: "Master, just save her.

After all, she is my best friend’s sister, so I can’t just ignore her and save her.”

"That's okay."

Xia Tian has always responded to his woman's requests. As for what consequences it will cause, he is not considering it at all. With him here, even if something bad happens, it can be easily solved.

"You should wake up, I am known as the "Poisonous Commander" in the killer world, and I am unparalleled in the world with my poisonous skills.

The poisonous mist I made is not an ordinary moldy mist. As long as it attracts just a little bit, the whole person will slowly decay and eventually turn into a puddle of pink water stains."

The young security guard smiled and said proudly: "No one in the world can solve this poisonous fog except me."

"A poisonous mist like yours is really not even a pediatrician. I can't even get interested in solving it."

Xia Tian casually gave Xu Xiaojun an injection, "It's all fancy but of no use. You have disgraced the two professions of killer and poison doctor, so you might as well die."

"Shameless talk!"

The young security guard's tone showed a sense of shame and anger at being underestimated, and he sprinkled poisonous powder all over the sky, "Then let you taste the power of my poisonous mist... eh?"

Before he finished speaking, Xia Tian's needle pierced his forehead.

"You like the poisonous mist so much, then just enjoy it slowly, you idiot."

Xia Tian took back the silver needle and kicked the killer into the poisonous mist he had spread. He was too lazy to waste time with this man.

"What on earth are you..." The killer suddenly found that he could not move, and the antidote he had prepared in his body suddenly became ineffective. At this time, the moldy mist he had thrown before had enveloped him, and every trace of

The chill slowly seeped into his skin, and he felt fearfully that death was approaching him little by little, but there was nothing he could do.

He regretted that he shouldn't have taken such an order, and he shouldn't have made the move tonight. In other words, he should have made the move simply and neatly instead of pursuing the so-called artistic sense. Unfortunately, there is no regret medicine in the world.
Chapter completed!