A bald man, his neck adorned with a thick gold chain and both hands pinching a cigarette, stared at a heap of scrap metal, fuming.
"Bro," Huo Wu kneeled on the ground, "We were just about to catch up with that strong guy when out of nowhere, a heavy truck barrelled in from another road. The driver of that truck was trained; he didn't even consider us as a threat. At first, it was just a scrape, but then he hit us again, and then the car ended up like this."
Compared to being ruthless, they were truly ruthless.
A whole car gone, tens of thousands lost.
"Some punk, picking on me," the man called Bro Huo, with especially thick lips and dark skin, said, "My car, I spent nearly thirty thousand on it, and now it's just gone."
"Bro," Huo Wu seemed almost to cry, "Bro, I failed in my task, not only did I not finish the job assigned to me, but I also lost your car. Bro, any punishment you decide is fine by me."
