Antique Porcelain, As Many As One Hundred Pieces

Tristan Yandell laughed coldly and clenched the battle sword in his hand. He really wanted to chop this old man into pieces.

"I've long heard that the king of the northern region is a lawless little devil," Old Man Zito said with a face full of despair. "It seems to be true!"

Tristan's eyes flashed coldly, and a killing intent appeared.

Old Man Zito's words were disrespectful, so Tristan wouldn't let him go just like that!

He wanted to kill him on the spot!

Moreover, Braydon Neal's words revealed another layer of meaning. As a War God, if he did not use him for himself, he could only kill him so that he would not be injured by this mine.

There was nothing wrong with this way of handling things.

After all, the dark division and the special operations team had done this kind of thing before.

"I'm already so old. I want to do something, but I don't have the ability to do so!" Old Man Zito said with a bitter face.