After such a fight, the guests had all but fled. Only the drunkards, the bartenders, and the members of the fraternity who arrived late and hadn't gone upstairs remained.
Seeing them, Zhang Beixing approached, gun in hand.
At the sight of him, these people's legs began to tremble.
"Please, I beg you, spare me! I'm just here to work; I haven't done anything!"
"God, please have mercy! Don't kill me, I want to live! I have a mother to support at home. If you kill me, she'll die!"
"Don't come over! Please, don't come over!"
These people pleaded with Zhang Beixing, begging him to show mercy and let them go.
Hearing their words, Zhang Beixing did not respond. Instead, he approached a bartender. Grabbing him by the collar, he looked at him and said, "Now, whatever I ask, you answer. Where is your boss?"
"On... on the third floor."
Looking at the gunpoint so close to him, the bartender swallowed, raised his hands, and said.
"The third floor? Where on the third floor?"
