Lin Hao lost his balance and knelt on one knee. Before he could stabilize himself, he was kicked back down again.
Huo Yirong's leather-shod foot was on Lin Hao's head, crushing half of his face.
His voice was chill, filled with bloodthirstiness: "You ignorant idiot, dare to lay your hand on me in this place? Done with living, are you?"
Committing outrage in Huo's territory, it was clear the man was hell-bent on a quick death.
Lin Hao clenched his teeth, not uttering a word, as if he were mute.
As Huo Yirong increased his pressure, fresh blood streamed from the corner of Lin Hao's mouth, his resolute expression was beyond comprehension.
Seeing that he didn't make a sound, Huo Yirong retracted his foot, his tone sarcastic, "Quite the tough guy."
Without delay, Huo Qiang moved forward, pressing down on Lin Hao to prevent him from attacking his master.
Huo Yirong dusted off his immaculate suit of his nonexistent lint, showing no trace of his earlier anger.
