It's always hard to start anything. People are like that; once the first slap lands, their dignity is already shattered. Any subsequent slaps are more or less meaningless, so the rough dozen men circle up and fan away with gusto, making Song Yun feel almost too comfortable—so much so that he almost wished he could provide them with some music to keep the beat.
Song Yun kicked Gao Fushuai in the backside and laughed, "You performed pretty well today, so I'll spare your life. One of these days when I'm not too busy, I'll swing by for a good chat."
The kick sent Gao Fushuai stumbling messily several steps forward, tearing the wounds on his legs and causing fresh blood to flow down. With an agonized cry, he collapsed to the ground, while the remaining thugs and security were left unsure of what to do.
