Heckled by a kid half his age, the burly man was embarrassed and angry.
"Stinky boy!" He raised his hand while shouting, wanting to slap A Lu Zhi.
If it was a normal kid standing in front of him, then maybe he could do whatever he wanted. Unfortunately, it was A Lu Zhi who was standing in front of him.
There was no need for the guards, nor for Qi Nu'a to make a move. As soon as A Lu Zhi raised his hand, he easily grabbed the burly man's wrist. As soon as he exerted force on his hand, everyone heard a crisp and loud cracking sound.
Crack! Crack!
Accompanied by the crackling sound, the burly man suddenly let out a painful scream. "Argh! My hand!"
Looking at his pale face covered with cold sweat, A Lu Zhi let go of his deformed wrist. Then he looked coldly at the refugees and saw that their faces were pale. It's not from hunger or disease but from fear.
