A moment later.
The black gang members lay scattered across the ground in various positions, groaning in pain, with Zhao Changhe sitting astride one of them, lifting his vinegar-bowl-sized fist, "Speak, what's the situation with Han Wubing? Do you really think with your pathetic skills you could have made him flee for his life?"
The man he was talking to nearly cried out, "I was just using Han Wubing's name to scare people, it's not like we're the ones who made him run away..."
"What's the situation, then?"
"I only know that Han Wubing killed the head of the Xingyi Gang, was besieged by a group from the Xingyi Gang, and then Old Peng from the Pinghu Association took action, and after that, Han Wubing left..."
"What a mess. What does this have to do with your so-called Sha Qi?"
"Didn't I say I was just scaring you? To make you think there was a connection."
"Damn it!" The vinegar-bowl-sized fist smashed down, knocking the man unconscious.
