On the outskirts of Dachang City.
A helicopter was flying into the distant outskirts.
This was Wang Xiaoming's private chopper.
However, today Wang Xiaoming was in a particularly horrible mood, the worst he had ever experienced, because his younger brother, Wang Xiaoqiang, had died.
He had watched helplessly as Yang Jian killed his good-for-nothing brother, and the feeling at that moment filled him with both rage and a deep sense of powerlessness.
"Why didn't you ask for my help earlier, why didn't you listen to me from the start, wouldn't it be better for you to just be a rich second generation quietly? Why did you have to go and set up some entertainment club and even dare to hire a hitman? You've made such a big mistake, how am I supposed to save you, how..."
Wang Xiaoming, sitting in the helicopter, clenched his fists tightly. Although he tried his best to suppress his emotions, the death of a family member still filled him with grief and indignation.
