Above, Chen Dashan's cold voice could be heard.
Zhao Kuang hadn't reacted yet, "Crack!" His head felt as if it were being crushed, a clear sound of bone cracking emanated from it. Zhao Kuang, lying on the ground, felt his head filling with blood, the large foot on his face weighing like a thousand pounds, rendering him immobile.
"I... I..."
Zhao Kuang struggled like a turtle with its head trapped, his limbs flailing. The cold sole, with the stench of mud, made him feel icy all over, like sensing the breath of death.
"They're over there, senior, we were blind to offend you..." Zhao Kuang stammered, unable to finish his sentence.
"Bang!" The sound was deafening.
Chen Dashan kicked Zhao Kuang, sending him flying into a gasoline barrel several meters away, the loud crash reverberating through the abandoned factory.
