Crows are cruel, and their hearts are dark, a well-known fact in the shadowy world of Baowan.
At least Huo Long knew one thing: Crow once had more than a dozen sworn brothers who had burned yellow paper and decapitated chickens together, but now, including him, only three were left.
As for the others, half of them had been slaughtered by this tyrannical man, yes, killed by his own hands.
Seeing Crow approach, Huo Long couldn't help but show an awkward and fearful smile, "Boss, you know I didn't mean it, I'll take the blame for the brothers' loss today, everything's on me!"
"Three million, within a week, come up with it, for the brothers to have some tea."
After speaking, Crow sat down on the sofa, and Huo Long nodded repeatedly. Three million to save his life was already quite good, and three days would be enough time for him to gather the money.
"Don't worry, don't worry, boss, how are your injuries? I think that darn youngster is kind of spooky, boss, what should we do?"