Blood spurted under the light of the moon. Crimson seemed to be the only color in the McCall family villa’s garden.

Dustin moved like a lightning strike.

No one could see him clearly because of how quickly he moved. No one could stop his blade. He danced amid the blooms of blood and painted a beautiful picture of violence.

The assassins used to be grim reapers in their own right. Yet, they were currently powerless and fell just as easily as ants.

As Dustin’s blade flashed, more and more people kept falling.

Some died with their faces filled with terror. Their deaths were pitiful.

Some died with their eyes bulging in shock at the horror of Dustin’s attacks.

Some died wearing an expression of deep remorse and regret for losing their lives in vain.

The members of the McCall family were flabbergasted at the sight. Every single onlooker was.

No one had ever imagined that they would be seeing such a sight.

Never before had so many assassins gathered to attack the s