"That depends on whether you have the skills!"
Grace Neumann raised her hand, making a motion to attack.
The cuffs of her sleeves were custom-made, containing a tribal hunting toxic crossbow.
Three darts in total.
The tips were coated with the sap of Heartbreaking Grass.
See the blood, seal the throat, not even gods can save.
But now, only two darts remained.
A year ago, Grace used one.
It was on a wealthy tycoon from Harbor Isle, who spent 800,000 to acquire Grace's painting.
But he had no interest in art.
He was only interested in the artist.
He invited Grace to his mansion, saying he wanted to model for her himself.
And so, an arrow struck his throat.
He truly became a specimen.
Yet at this very moment, Grace had no chance to strike at Sarah Sullivan!
Because Sarah pressed her lips together, a whimpering sound emerged, as if chanting.
The sound was melodious and lingering, as if crying and lamenting.
Upon hearing this sound, Grace's expression changed drastically.
