The scene had heated them up, their eyes going wide.
Luo Qiangwei bit her red lips, intending to say something, but then she noticed a bloodstain on Mo Shiche's arm. It was clearly from blocking a knife for her and was still dripping blood.
That knife had also sliced open the man's shirt sleeve, revealing his slender, fair arm. His skin was covered in one blood scab after another, some scabbed over and others not, densely packed and chilling to look at—it seemed as if he had been bitten by some animal.
Just looking at it, she could tell it must be incredibly painful.
Luo Qiangwei was stunned and asked instinctively, "What happened to your arm?"
"It's nothing," Mo Shiche said indifferently, quickly turning his arm to hide it. His handsome face turned grim and cold as he glanced at the burly men and, with slightly parted lips, uttered one word, "Scram."
