"What does that mean?"
Zhang Wanlin's eyes gradually narrowed, a sense of foreboding rising within him. He lowered his head to glance at the cigarette in his arms, curling his body as far back into his seat as possible, as if by doing so he could put as much distance between himself and Chen Miao as possible.
He naturally knew what the Hell Bus was.
However, he had never imagined that he could board the Hell Bus. Generally speaking, only those with extreme resentment in their hearts could board the Hell Bus, and to be honest... he didn't harbor any resentment before his death.
Even though he died at the hands of Chen Miao, he really didn't feel any resentment.
He had always known this day would come.
