Zhang Zhixin waved his hand, suppressing the chatter of everyone, tilted his chin up, and said to Chen Yang with a face full of arrogance, "Since you want to up the stakes, I'll indulge you!
If you can beat us, each of us will give you a thousand! How about that, ever seen so much money?"
What a joke, when Chen Yang was an Assassin, a pair of tactical gloves alone cost over a hundred thousand; a mere thousand was indeed nothing to him.
"A thousand is child's play, not even enough for a Bashari lollipop. Ten thousand is more like it!" As Chen Yang spoke, he put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it at the corner of his lips.
Zhang Zhixin's little face turned red with anger once more. He considered himself a master of swagger, but in front of Chen Yang, he didn't even qualify as an elementary student in the world of swagger!
"F*ck, ten thousand it is then, I'll crush you later!" Zhang Zhixin roared at Chen Yang.
