Fu Heng shifted his gun, grabbed the man by his collar and yanked him up, "Where's the man with the mask? What is your relationship with him?"
"I don't understand what you're talking about," the middle-aged man clenched his jaw, denying it outright.
Fu Heng sneered, pointed his gun directly under his jaw, "Tell the truth."
"I, I genuinely don't know anything. Even if you kill me, it'll be pointless," the man's sweat poured from his forehead, his fingers trembling.
"Fu Heng, proceed!" Quan Jingwu leaned back, his cold voice echoing from what seemed like the depth of the abyss.
Fu Heng nodded, aimed at the man's thigh and pulled the trigger.
The suppressed sound of the shot was instantly overwhelmed by the man's howl of pain.
"Ah—"
"Will you speak now?" Fu Heng asked in a cold voice.
"I genuinely do not know..."
The middle-aged man trembled in pain yet continued to stubbornly deny any involvement.
