Chen Tong had seen an ice hockey mask.
Two years ago, when he and his elder brother traveled north, they saw some foreigners playing on the frozen surface of a lake in the Imperial City, wearing thick protective gear and masks like this.
To this day, Chen Tong couldn't understand the point of a group of people chasing after an iron disc.
On the other hand, the curved courtyards of the Imperial City were quite enjoyable.
You could listen, and you could play, especially the private rooms on the second floor.
The events that took place on the second floor at that time flashed through his mind, and Chen Tong's gaze focused again on the ice hockey mask.
He opened his mouth wide, ready to shout.
But Jason was faster.
The hand gripping his cheek applied force.
Crack.
Chen Tong's neck emitted a sharp snap, breaking cleanly, and his body limply slid to the ground.
Everything occurred in the blink of an eye.
By the time Peng Liang came to his senses, Chen Tong was already dead.
