The sudden voice not only shocked the four descendants of the aristocratic families, but even these demons looked at Han Zhao.
"Quickly help us kill these demons!" One of the descendants of the aristocratic families shouted.
"100,000 taels of gold! Or 10 Demon Gold!"
Han Zhao's hands were in the shape of a trumpet.
The disciple of the aristocratic family was stunned for a moment before cursing, "Have you gone mad from poverty?!"
Boom!
Han Zhao chuckled and punched the demon attacking him into pieces.
He grabbed the remains of the demon with both hands and grabbed a black crystal. Then, he retreated quickly.
Sizzle…
Han Zhao looked at his fist and saw that a piece of the skin on the back of his hand had been burned off. The wound was pitch-black, numb and itchy, emitting black smoke.