The man with the stick had blond hair, which by now had become grimy, like a yellow rag.
The key was his face, which was exactly the same one Li Chengyi had just seen, that handsome man who had drugged Zhao Xiaoli.
"It's you?"
Li Chengyi swept a glance around, walls were splattered with blood, and the man's wounds had been considerately dressed and bandaged.
But his question was doomed to remain unanswered.
The handsome man lifted his head, as if he felt someone approaching, and revealed his face.
Both of his eyes had been gouged out, and blood streamed from his ear canals.
Clearly, he could neither see nor hear.
"...." Li Chengyi was at a loss for words and turned to walk away.
By day, he had seen the bustle of Chaoyu, by night, it was filled with bloodthirsty brutality.
He had only made it to the mouth of the alley when two tall men, wielding black machetes, blocked the exit.
The two men looked at him, as if assessing something.
