"Zhang Zihang, do you concede?"
A faint force from Yan Moshan's right foot twisted Zhang Zihang's face to distortion.
"Huff—huff—"
Struggling to calm his breathing accelerated by fear, Zhang Zihang asked tremulously,
"If I concede, will you not kill me?"
"No—I'll give you a swift end," Yan Moshan said with a hint of a smile on his face.
"Hmph—if it's death either way, why should I concede?" Zhang Zihang asked angrily.
"The answer is simple. If you don't concede, I will kill you slowly! For example... start by cutting off your little brother, and then..."
"No... please, give me a dignified death. No... no... I don't want to die! What do you want, beautiful women or wealth? I'll give you anything, just don't kill me! I beg you!"
Facing the terror inflicted by Yan Moshan, Zhang Zihang began to babble incoherently.
"Is that so? But I want you to shut up. It doesn't matter whether you concede or not, I might as well just kill you!"