"Kid, do you think the gun in my hand is made of mud? You really believe I won't blow your brains out and see if you can save yourself?"
After a ferocious smile, the robber bent down, aimed the gun at Ye Feng's head, and asked coldly.
Ye Feng remained utterly unafraid, turned his head, and coldly chuckled without a word while staring into the robber's eyes.
In his eyes, it made no difference whether the gun in the robber's hand was made of iron or molded from clay.
If it weren't for the fact that he feared delaying the medical aid for the pregnant woman and risking the lives of many hostages, he could easily have crumbled that poker into a ball and stuffed it into the robber's mouth with just a slight gesture of his hand.
A sweep of his icy gaze caused the robber's body to shiver involuntarily as an inexplicable chill emerged on half of his body.
He thought he was ruthless enough, but Ye Feng's stare gave him the feeling of something even more ferocious.
