Hua Hui's mouth curled into a smile, as if he had already seen the image of Wu Jie's head bloody and battered.
Just as the beer bottle was about ten centimeters away from Wu Jie's head, the door to private room 208 was violently pushed open, and immediately after, a pair of hands blocked in front of Wu Jie's forehead, gripping the beer bottle in the palm, saving Wu Jie from the danger of his head being smashed open.
Hua Hui stared blankly at the young man who had suddenly appeared; he hadn't even noticed when the young man had entered the private room. As he was about to curse out loud, he only heard a "bang," and the glass beer bottle that the young man held in his hand exploded into countless shards, scattering onto the floor.
"Gulp, gulp." Hua Hui couldn't help swallowing his saliva involuntarily, cold sweat continuously seeping out on his forehead. A man who could crush a glass bottle into powder with his bare hands was definitely not someone Hua Hui could handle.
