Accompanied by a cry of severe pain, the man's pinkie finger was already a bloody mess.
"There are still four fingers left."
Lin Hanxing said coldly without even looking.
The smell of blood in the air became more and more serious, and some of the more timid ones had already started to vomit.
But still, no one spoke.
Lin Hanxing casually waved his hand, only to hear tragic cries again.
"There are three fingers left."
The cold voice sounded again. Bai Xi poured a cup of warm water and put it in her hand.
Lin Hanxing picked it up and took a sip.
"I said! I say! It was him! He brought it here!"
The man with two broken fingers reached out with a trembling hand and pointed at the man who was on the phone outside.
"That, you ..."
Lu bingde seemed to want to say something, but he was so frightened by Lin Hanxing's indifferent gaze that he swallowed his words.
"Oh, he brought it here."
Lin Hanxing smiled, but the smile did not reach his eyes.
