"Pan Jueming, you dare..."
Upon hearing Ye Fan's expressionless command, Zheng Xun was frightened, and in a rage, stared at Pan Jueming.
Dare not?
"Slap—"
The response to Zheng Xun was a loud slap!
Under Song Ying's stunned gaze, Pan Jueming slapped Zheng Xun's cheek with great force.
This strike, although not enhanced with Power and deliberately controlled, still twisted Zheng Xun's head to the side, split his lip, and left five bright red finger marks on his face.
Blood gushed out, and Zheng Xun could taste the saltiness in his mouth, feeling as if the left side of his face had been scorched by fire, a burning pain throbbing through it.
"Fuck..."
Zheng Xun was enraged, charging at Pan Jueming like an angry lion.
"Whoosh!"
Pan Jueming remained composed, his left hand shaped like a claw, suddenly swung out, and, as if catching something from a bag, he firmly seized Zheng Xun's neck, immobilizing him.
