He still wanted to live well; he didn't want to die without even knowing why, much less die in a way that left not even his bones behind.
For a moment he didn't know what to say, so he could only stand there, smiling awkwardly in place.
It was just too hard. Way too hard.
He'd originally thought that becoming an Evil Cultivator would mean living free and easy, doing as he pleased—especially after their Evil Cultivation forces occupied Rock City and he even became a small squad leader.
But how could he have imagined they would run into people who liked to strike from the shadows like that.
Even now, he still didn't know whether those people were Sect Disciples or clan guards from some major clan or whatever; these days he didn't even dare sleep too deeply at night, afraid he'd never open his eyes again the next morning.
"Why aren't you getting lost yet?"
The leader saw him standing there grinning like an idiot and cursed at him.
