In the alley.
The thief was cornered and had nowhere to run. The man behind him pursued him relentlessly. He stopped and took out a dagger from his pocket, as he glared at the man and said, "If you don't want to die, leave!"
The man crossed his arms in front of his chest and said calmly, "What if I don't want to leave?"
The thief sneered, "Then die!"
With that, he lunged forward with his sharp dagger and aimed at the officious man.
The man flickered swiftly, easily avoiding the cold dagger. The man was donning a carefree expression as if he was not in the matter of life and death. He smiled languidly and said, "How can you be a thief with such a limited ability?"
The thief was enraged by the merciless satire. He cursed rudely and then turned back to stab the man again. The man sneered and said, "You're digging your own grave!"
He lifted his foot and kicked the thief heavily on his belly. He stumbled to the ground, groaning in pain.
With a faint smile on his face and a chill in his eyes, the man lifted his trousers, squatted down in front of the thief, and took the bag in his hand. "You're lucky that I don't have time to play with you."
Cold sweat oozed from the thief's back.
"Hey..." Sharon's voice suddenly sounded, "Did you catch that damn thief?"
The man looked back. In a blink of an eye, the thief who was lying motionlessly on the ground suddenly struck forward. A faint puffing sound could be heard as the dagger pierced into the man's flesh. The man's eyes burst with anger. The blood- thirsty anger shrouded him in a haze, making him look like the most horrifying Grim Reaper.
An extremely cold glare was shot toward the thief that he suddenly shuddered as if he had fallen into an ice cellar.
Sharon rushed over and was shocked as she stumbled upon the scene. She stood as still as a frozen statue as the bright color of blood spread in front of her eyes.
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