Chapter 27

Seeing the terrified head rolling down to her feet, Tangning resisted the urge to kick her away and took a step back in silence.

Dead head, so ugly.

"Shut up for me! If there is more noise, this is the end!"

The man held the bloody sword, glanced coldly at everyone in the prison, reached out and grabbed a person in the corner and pushed out: "Get out! Hurry up!"

The man who stretched out his hand to push the person glanced strangely at the little monk beside him, and thought to himself: Why did you get a little monk here?

Tangning blinked, pretending she didn't see the strange gaze staring at her head. She stood there quietly, not making noise, not panicking, and seemed extremely calm, but those clear and pure eyes gave people a feeling of being ignorant and ignorant of the dangers of the world.

She narrowed her eyes, lowered her head, and quietly followed everyone out of the dungeon to the open space outside. However, she wanted to be low-key and transparent, but with her bright little head, let her stay in the second place. Among the dozen or so people, they were extremely special, and almost at a glance, they made people look directly at her.

No, it was on her bald head.

well! This kind of attention-grabbing feeling really made her miss her silky long hair!

"Why is there a little monk? Who got it?"

One of the men with swords stared at the little monk with a dark face but a small bald head, smiled inexplicably, walked up to the little monk, reached out and touched the glowing His head sneered: "Little monk, you said you didn't recite the scriptures and worship the Buddha too much, why did you get caught in such unfortunate circumstances? Why didn't the Buddha you believe in bless you?"

Resisting the urge to chop off that claw, Tangning took a slight step back and let the claw that was making a mess on her head feel empty. Then she said solemnly, "The Buddha said, if I don't go to hell, who goes to hell?"

"Hahahaha! Good one, who will go to hell if I don't go to hell!"

The man with the sword raised his head and laughed, his laughter subsided, and he stared at the little monk who did not know what the fear was on his face, and said: "It's really interesting! I want to see if there are really people in this world. Not afraid of death!"

Seeing the man turn and leave, Tangning narrowed her eyes. What she is thinking now is that there are thirty or forty people who wear swords, and they seem to be good at it. How can she save herself under the hands of these people?

As she pondered, the hands of more than 20 people were tied to a thick rope, and she was no exception.

To her surprise, a girl of about twelve years old with messy hair didn't know whether it was intentional or not. She lowered her head and retreated to her side as if she was frightened, and was tied in front of her.

Perhaps it was the killing intent displayed by these people and the cold blood that regarded human life as a mustard, so that everyone was afraid and did not dare to resist. what is it?

Tangning looked around and saw that those people were all standing closely, not doing anything else, as if they were waiting for someone to arrive.

Looking at these men with swords standing upright and full of blood-killing aura, she knew in her heart that these people were probably from unusual origins. None of these people are fierce.

These people, like swords stained with blood, are sharp and dazzling!