"Shen Yuuuuaaaaan!" Gao Qiang, whom Shen Yuan fondly called Haichong, roared. His face, that's initially lacking color, now looks like all of the blood in his system rushed toward his face. But as if everything is ordinary teasing, Shen Yuan twisted the two metal chopsticks like he was tightening a screwdriver.
The smiling blue eyes of the celestial fox spirit arched like a grinning Cheshire cat when he heard the silent squelching of flesh every slow twist of the chopsticks.
This pain is absolutely something that would make normal people writhe on the ground and Haichong is only a little better in taking it. He was trembling and still had the energy to push Shen Yuan away.
However, the more he pulled away, the deeper Shen Yuan drove the stick to his flesh.
No mercy at all.
