With a light final 'hmm', Huo Yirong spoke.
Huo Qiang and Huo Zhi trembled upon hearing it.
The color drained from Huo Zhi's face, acknowledging her imminent death.
She bit her lip, and then spoke, resigned, "I beg you, Second Master, make it quick."
"Hah!" Huo Yirong laughed bitterly, yanking harder on her hair.
The scalp felt unbearably painful, and Huo Zhi painfully leant forward, trying to lessen the pain.
"Want to die? That would be too easy for you!"
Huo Yirong released his grip, then kicked her.
"Boom!"
That kick had all his strength behind it.
Huo Zhi was kicked in the chest, flung against the wall of the corridor.
"Cough, cough..." She clutched at her chest, coughing softly.
The taste of blood began to fill her mouth.
The Second Master was terrifying when truly angered.
Struggling to her feet again, Huo Zhi knelt on the ground, facing the dark-looking handsome man at the door.
Huo Yirong was holding an elegant, silver gun that seemed to appear out of nowhere.
