Song Yun also wanted to try what it was like to be a kidnapper, so he pulled out a butterfly knife from his pocket. This small, half-folded knife, due to its compact size, was normally used for things like peeling apples.
He pressed it against Gao Fushuai's neck and said seriously, "Don't anyone come closer, or a shake of my hand might accidentally slice his throat, which would be quite unfortunate."
"Quick, let Mr. Gao go. Do you know what will happen to you? Just let Mr. Gao go, and I guarantee you'll leave unharmed," the head of security said with a heavy habitual tone and a slightly simpler mindset. Even now, he believed that promising Song Yun and his group a safe exit would suffice.
"Hey, don't talk like that. Your Mr. Gao was all tough just a moment ago, roughing up and cursing at me, his 'friend.' Let's give him a little punishment first." Song Yun lightly drew across Gao Fushuai's chest, and blood freely flowed from the wound, staining a large swath of his clothes red.
