Lian Jiuhua punched out at Han Moze's chest, snarling, "Damn it! Where's the spirit of brotherhood!"
Han Moze caught his fist, however, and smiled evilly, "You head would roll for such insolence!"
Feeling his fist being enveloped tightly and painfully by Han Moze's palm, Lian Jiuhua promptly frowned and glared accusingly at him again, looking as if he was bullied as tears welled in his eyes.
This tyrant is bullying him again! How rotten could he be? Who could help him bully him in return?!
Still, finding that was about enough fun, Han Moze let go of his fist. Snorting coolly, he turned and headed outside.
Lian Jiuhua flexed his wrist at that, gritting his teeth as he winced in pain. "That tyrant! How ruthless!"
Han Moxi took his hand to see distinct bruising and swelling on the back of his hand, and slowly asked, "Does it hurt, Jiuhua?"
"What do you think?!"
