"What's the matter, haven't I made myself clear enough? Or do I need to take matters into my own hands?"
Zhang Xiaomeng's gaze was sharp as lightning, coldly staring at Li Xiangyang.
"Brother Xiaomeng, I was wrong. I am willing to compensate you for your loss. How about 1 million? I will also give you this gun in my hand."
"I am the only successor of the Li Family, I beg you, please don't make me mutilate myself."
Li Xiangyang's face turned pale, cold sweat all over his forehead.
"I don't want to repeat myself a second time. If you don't do it yourself, then I'll personally break both of your legs."
Zhang Xiaomeng's voice was cold and chilling, as if it came straight from hell.
Hearing this, Li Xiangyang's face instantly turned ashen, like the color of death.
After hesitating, Li Xiangyang got up from the ground, found a dry tree branch, and then, holding the branch, he smashed it down onto his own arm.
"Ah!"
