If anyone was indulging this scientific expedition team, that was someone else's business.
When it came to Chen Fei, he wouldn't be polite at all—he'd grabbed them by the neck and thrown them into the pack of wolves without even a furrow of his brow.
"Stay calm, stay calm! Everyone back off, stop fighting!"
Charles Grayson quickly extended his hand and separated the two.
He was genuinely worried, fearing that a few wrong words could lead to a fight on the spot.
The Madonna wasn't utterly useless; at least she was first-rate at smoothing things over, but her double standards were infuriating.
The stocky female expedition member heeded her leader's words and consciously stepped back, swallowing her anger, "Sir! We asked you here to solve problems, not create them."
Chen Fei stood his ground, arms crossed, and said, "Then you only have two choices: either kill all the wolves or be eaten by them. There are a total of 371 Asian gray wolves, enough to gnaw you down to the bones."
