"Is he your friend?"
Riel looked at Cheng Daqi with confusion and lifted Kernor off the ground with one hand.
"Let go, you're just a..."
Kernor's mouth wasn't very clean.
After all, no one remains calm and collected after being sneak-attacked, but his subsequent words cut off abruptly when he saw Riel's pectoral muscles.
Forcing what he believed to be a friendly, fierce smile, Riel watched with great interest the little black potato in his hand.
"Go on, keep talking, I really like your mouth."
Riel even provocatively thrust his hips forward with a perverse delight.
He was actually looking forward to Kernor continuing to dig his own grave.
The one now considered a 'little potato,' Kernor, was foolish, but not an idiot.
He knew he had gotten himself into big trouble.
A two-meter-tall, at least 300-pound, muscle-bound, fierce-looking man, thrusting his waist and saying 'I like your mouth.'
This was far scarier than any American horror story.
