Even with Chen Ke's gun pressed against his forehead, the fat man didn't seem overly panicked—it was clear he was an experienced figure in the underworld.
Chen Ke's bullet shattered two of his fingers; he clutched at the severed stubs, teeth clenched, his eyes filled with hatred as he looked at Chen Ke.
"Do I know you?" the man asked.
"That's not important. Do you work for Si's consortium?" Chen Ke inquired.
"Hahaha... A lot of people work for Si's consortium. Why don't you join them..." The man burst into laughter.
Chen Ke's face darkened as he struck the fat man's forehead hard with the pistol butt, causing blood to splatter and a gash to form.
"Ah!!! You son of a bitch!" the man cursed.
"Cut the crap. Tell me, what did Si's consortium get from the West Gold Building?" Chen Ke demanded coldly.
