Liao Zhiji immediately froze on the chair, not daring to move even a bit.
Not only did he not move, he also cooperatively shouted, "Alright, alright, alright! I promise I won't move at all, but sir, you must control the Sword Intent in your hand carefully!"
By the end of his words, Liao Zhiji's voice trembled, and cold sweat adorned his forehead, obviously having fully experienced the chilling murderous aura of the Sword Intent resting against his throat.
Xue An revealed himself, a mocking smile appearing on his face.
"Whether I can control the Sword Intent in my hand depends entirely on how well you cooperate next!"
"Cooperate, cooperate, sir. Just give your orders, I won't have a single word of objection!"
Such a servile attitude greatly disgusted Wu Jun.
"Ugh, shameless dog!"
After saying that, he looked at Xue An in astonishment, not understanding when he entered.
In fact, Xue An had already sensed something was amiss when they first boarded this spaceship.
