The leader was a sturdy man in his thirties, not very tall, but exceptionally muscular, with a blade of dogtail grass dangling from his mouth. He stared vacantly at the suddenly appeared Ye Fan, thinking to himself: Damn it, how did this guy pop up out of nowhere? Just a moment ago there was nobody there, and now suddenly there's one more.
"Boss, should we make a move?" a henchman asked quietly. "I can hardly stand it anymore, damn it, there are too many mosquitoes in the bushes, and they're about to bite me to death."
"Hold on a bit longer," the sturdy man glared at him, now irritated. Damn it, according to the plan, they should have pounced when the target approached the pickup truck to stop, overwhelming him and finishing him off completely. But damn it, Long Ao and the others had stopped their car too timely, still a distance away from this spot.
