Jian Na was just speaking when her peripheral vision suddenly caught something, and her body tensed with fright.
She saw a foreign passerby suddenly reach out towards her from the side, while at the same time, cold light flashed in his right hand—a knife aimed straight for her throat!
At the critical moment, Jian Na reacted swiftly, urgently dodging backwards to avoid the stab, but her left arm was firmly grabbed by him.
"Enemy!"
"Damn!"
Wa Xueming glared and cursed.
Both of them simultaneously drew pistols from their waists to counterattack, but unexpectedly, at least six or seven burly men of varying complexions charged towards them from the front and rear of the alley, knives in hand. An Asian girl with short ear-length hair drew a silenced pistol from her chest.
"Crap! We're surrounded!"
"These people aren't intelligence agents! They look like mercenary assassins!"
