Yang Fan watched as seven or eight thugs charged at him, silently pulled the belt out of the pants of the unconscious punk at his feet, and slowly wound it around his hand.
He couldn't help but lament how small the world seemed at that moment, and how damned narrow the path of enemies was.
People he had fought at noon, he had now encountered again in the evening.
The leader of the group was none other than the ex-husband with the flat-top haircut.
Yang Fan shielded Little Mother and the others behind him, his hands behind his back, hiding the belt wound around his hand, as he faced the group.
He was ready—if the ex-husband insisted on finding trouble, he would continue with the strategy of capturing the leader first.
The guy had his leg broken by Yang Fan at noon, and now was propped up on crutches, his head wrapped in a large bandage.
In such a wretched state, he still had the mood to come to such a place with a gang of punks for fun.
