"Holy sh*t, you want to run into me! Run into me! Run into me!" Every time he yelled, Zhao Yu slammed his fist into the Haval's driver. The man's face bled profusely, and he whined painfully. This person was also about forty or so, a middle-aged man. He was short and skinny, yet he drove a very large car. After he vented all his anger, Zhao Yu dangled the person by the collar and walked towards Miao Ying.
At the time, Miao Ying had already handcuffed the two criminals she had shot. Miao Ying's shooting skills were top-notch. Even though the two had been shot, they were not in any danger of dying.
"One, two, three, four…" Zhao Yu counted, then said immediately, "That's not right, we're missing one! There should have been five people who robbed the bank!"