The pitch-black room was devoid of any light, with a faint medicinal scent wafting in the air from the incense burner.
Wrapped tightly like a dumpling, Tang Ming sank into an uncomfortable and agonizing sleep, totally unaware of the shadow quietly creeping towards him.
The shadow silently approached the bed and raised the dagger in its hand. The chilling flash of the blade reflected in Tang Ming's eyes.
Tang Ming's eyes shot open, "Who's there?!"
The figure clamped a hand over Tang Ming's mouth, while the other held tightly onto the dagger, driving it forcefully towards Tang Ming's stomach!
Tang Ming struggled, but with his severe wounds, where could he muster any strength?
Just as the blade was about to penetrate his body, in the space of a heartbeat, a window was abruptly forced open and a dart flew in, striking the figure's wrist.
The figure's wrist was slashed, and the sudden intense pain made its fingers slacken, dropping the dagger onto the floor.