Despite being caught up in his pleasure, how could Hei Long not hear the sound of the door being kicked down? He glanced back and saw two unfamiliar young men entering. Frustrated, he immediately reached for the pistol under his pillow, intent on ending them. How dare they ruin his fun? And for that matter, the act of killing was nothing new to him—a man experienced in the spilling of blood, who had always escaped untouched. To kill these two youngsters, then have their bodies burnt later was a cinch. All highly discreet.
Seeing Hei Long grab a gun, Shen Yingtian was so scared that he could barely stand. Yes, Li Huai was formidable, but could he ever surpass a bullet?
Pop! A gunshot sounded, leaving a hole on the wall, less than five centimeters from Shen Yingtian.
"Brother, save me!" Shen Yingtian's words were disrupted by a scream of pain. Turning his gaze, he saw that Li Huai had flung Hei Long away with a swift kick, sending the pistol skidding right to Shen Yingtian's feet.