The woman in white was terrifying—every step she took was a death sentence. Her Ghostwillow blade was as thin as a whisper, and every slash drew blood, each strike hitting a vital spot.

Within seconds, aside from Roger, the remaining members of the Wrights' elite guard were dead on the spot.

"Who the hell are you?" Roger yelled, drenched in cold sweat. "Why are you going this far? Why the hell are you killing everyone?"

The woman came to a stop. After that brutal bout of violence, her face looked almost possessed. She ran her blood-slick tongue across the edge of her blade and giggled darkly.

"Who am I? I'm White Viper. Today, you're all going to die. Especially that handsome little guy standing behind you—he's going to die the most miserably."

Roger spun around and glared furiously at Andrew. "This is your fault, you walking disaster! You brought this psycho down on us! Call Mr. Wright—get backup! I'll hold her off, but you need to move, now!"

Barking that order, Roger cha