Beside his feet quietly lay a corpse with its eyes horrifyingly wide open.
Three minutes ago, this was still a living being and was one of Yang Shoucheng's bodyguards.
Now, a gaping hole, dripping with blood, could be seen in his forehead between his eyebrows.
He merely uttered a statement that incurred the ire of First Young Master Gu and ended up in such a horrendous state.
Fresh blood splattered all over the floor, filling the room with the heavy smell of blood.
The skin's temperature was rapidly cooling.
The terrifying atmosphere of death shrouded the vast VIP lounge.
Qin Zhou looked sympathetically at Yang Shoucheng's ashen face and walked toward the pool table to line up the billiard balls.
At one side, Ji Lin played with a few billiard balls; the expression on his face revealed that he had long been accustomed to such a scene.
