As soon as the name came out, her body trembled visibly to the naked eye.
Shrinking his neck, he looked pitiful for fear of being beaten.
"You...be careful with him."
It seemed that she mustered up the most courage, and after she finished speaking quickly, she turned her head and left.
Without saying anything, he returned to his seat and lay down on the table.
retracted to his corner again, and didn't look at her again.
Leaving Yun Si sitting alone on the seat, she blinked and was extremely dazed.
…careful?
Watch out for him what?
She turned and looked at Fu Lijing.
…
…
…
Slums.
Between dilapidated buildings.
"boom-"
There was a heavy falling sound.
Like throwing garbage, the man covered in bruises hit the wall heavily, and then fell down like a rag.
fell on the dilapidated and blackened wall, the garbage on the ground was washed by the rain, and dirty sewage flowed out.
The man was wet all over, his hair was wet, dripping water continuously.
Sitting paralyzed by the wall, his face, body, and bones were covered with large and small scars.
Moaning in pain, clutching his lower abdomen.
It seemed that he was about to die.
With a bruised nose and swollen face, the original face can no longer be seen.
It can only be seen that he is tortured to the point of dying of pain.
The instinct to survive made him miserable.
The rain was pattering, falling coldly and relentlessly on the ground.
Just looking at it, in front of the man who looked like a rag, he was surrounded by those vicious gangsters.
Everyone has a thorny appearance that is not easy to mess with.
In this area, it is almost king.
The man who had been beaten for a long time was so painful that his nose and tears flowed together.
Kneel down, begging for mercy constantly.
"I was wrong, I was wrong, give me a few more days, I will definitely pay back the money I owe you, with interest."
"Please, please, stop beating, stop beating... please forgive me for a few more days..."
A real big man, crying like a weak and helpless child.
In front of being alive, one's backbone is not even a fart.
Kneel down and kowtow, almost smashing his head in panic.
Crying so much that snot and blood were mixed together.
The gangsters spat viciously and kicked over.
"Fuck, how many times have you forgiven?"
"Son of a bitch, you dared to run when you saw us just now?!"
"What? Really think we dare not break your leg?"
"…stop fighting…"
The man whimpered and fell to the ground, unable to get up.
The rain fell on him and flowed mercilessly into his eyes.
His eyes were extremely red and swollen, and his vision was blurred from the beating.
Can't see anything clearly, only dimly see - the figure standing behind the gangsters.
That man, holding a dark red umbrella, looks like a man like Yama.
The cold rain falls, falls on the umbrella, gathers into droplets, and falls down.
The umbrella partially covered his face, and in a trance, he seemed to see his eyes.
Those eyes—the eyes that should be born to be indifferent.
When there is no emotion at all, it is like a demon fighting from the dead.
Deep, stinking, rotten, blackened, viscous and cold pupils.
Holding the handle of the umbrella quietly with long, cold white hands, on the deep red umbrella surface, the delicate flowers are as red as blood.
Just standing behind the bastards, like their king.
Holds the power of life and death—in this place.