"Bang!"
Chen Feng soared through the air like a sandbag, crashing onto the conference table once again, his entire body almost falling apart, but paradoxically, he was completely lucid, suffering torture amidst the agony.
It wasn't that Chen Feng had such an extraordinary gift that he couldn't pass out; rather, it was because Su Sheng had used a Silver Needle to forcibly keep him conscious.
I just want to hit you, and I want you to endure it conscious.
"Pfft…"
Chen Feng spat out blood, struggling to speak, his words wheezing, "Su, Su Sheng, it was you who killed Zhang Qiang, you won't live either."
"Really? Has your brain been bashed to mush?"
Su Sheng was already surrounded by a throng of people, security and bodyguards totaling over thirty, but what of it? If he chose to strike, not even an army could stop him.
"What? It's true I visited Zhang Qiang's private club, and thereafter Zhang Qiang was finished off, but you, Chen Feng, conveniently omitted a detail."
