One of his hands was still bleeding, mixed with shards of glass, presenting a frightening and yet somehow tragically beautiful sight.
He was ruthlessly violent, his affluent targets beaten to a pulp with bruised faces and bleeding mouths, but Mo Shiche clearly had no intention of stopping. He picked everyone up and beat them all over again...
The wealthy businessmen were almost beaten to death, lying on the ground in tremors and convulsions, blood everywhere.
Mo Shiche stood in the middle, his tall figure like a demon from hell, shrouded in an extremely cold and explosive aura, as if rage was about to burst forth from his chest.
Luo Qiangwei had never seen him so savagely bloodthirsty. In her mind, Mo Shiche was detached and cool, as if nothing in the world mattered to him, nothing worth a second glance.
