"Don't... don't touch me. I'll give you money, one hundred million, a billion..."
When Liu Zhixiong realized that his identity, wealth, and expensively hired bodyguards could not protect him, he exhibited a fear that wasn't much different from that of an ordinary person.
He was just a disabled man in a wheelchair, definitely no match for Qin Yu.
This man had fought his way up from below; he surely wasn't here just for a nonchalant apology from him.
Chances were, he might end up killing him.
"Swallow this!"
When Qin Yu approached, he had been clenching his fist, but now he opened it to reveal a handful of broken glass right in front of Liu Zhixiong's face,
mixed with the blood from his own palm where the glass had cut him.
He wanted to know just how painful it was to have glass cut through one's palm. He was even more eager for Liu Zhixiong to taste the sensation of glass intimately contacting his body.
"Are you fucking crazy?"
Liu Zhixiong's eyes widened in shock.