Burst!

The liquor spilled on the knife, slid down the tip of the knife, and dripped on the ground.

Yang Liuwu had long been frightened to the point that her scalp was numb, she knelt on the spot and shivered, her lips were pale, and her eyes were closed.

In the face of death, even monks are not calm, let alone ordinary people?

Who can calm down?

The sharp ghost-headed broadsword was raised high and slammed towards ......

"It doesn't matter, I'm the devil" Chapter 175 Yang Liuwu is hitting in the hand, please wait a while,

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