Just as Flat Head had left not long ago, a painful wail was heard outside, followed quickly by the figure of a man flying back in.
"Flat Head!!!"
Looking at the young man who flew in from outside, his chest was already noticeably sunken, with fresh blood continuously flowing from his mouth, gasping more than breathing, evidently on the brink of death.
Everyone was so shocked their faces turned pale, instinctively pulling out their weapons, eyes fixed firmly on the direction of the door.
Not only the group of young men dressed like little hooligans who were ready for action, but also a man in black, who had been watching indifferently like a statue, appeared as if facing a great enemy.
After checking the injuries of the young man named Flat Head, he pulled out a black pistol from his pocket, pointing it at the door, ready to shoot at any moment.
Pa pa pa...
