The sickening crack of bone echoed through the air, cutting short the man's pleas. Mo Wu lightly released her grip, allowing the corpse to slump like a puppet to the ground.,Ke Mo danced but didn't glance at the man. Instead, she stared blankly at her own hand.,To live, to survive, endless killing and slaughter day and night have left his hands riddled with wounds, ugly and scarred.。