我是特种兵之国之利刃

The masters of the demon race could come at any time, and Yang Jian did not dare to hesitate for too long. With a heartbeat, he stamped his feet, took a deep breath, and with a solemn expression, he directly pinched the old man in front of him into a thumb-sized bead and stuffed it. On a Lingbao gourd, he threw it towards Miasma Lake....