Meanwhile, several black Audis pulled up outside the hotel. A dark-skinned, serious-looking middle-aged man led a few others over to Zhang Ming.
"Biao, you're finally here!" Zhang Ming's face lit up with surprise as he hurried to greet him.
"So, who are we roughing up?" Liu Biao asked, taking a deep drag from his cigarette before flicking it onto the ground.
Making two million just to rough someone up was an incredible deal. He'd gladly do jobs like this every day.
"That kid is just some small-fry fruit seller. You have to give him a good beating for me later!" Zhang Ming snarled through gritted teeth.
"One hand and one leg. Don't even think about anything more," Liu Biao said calmly. He was just doing business, after all. There was no need to escalate things and get tangled up in a lawsuit.
"Of course, that's fine!" Zhang Ming licked his lips excitedly. "Biao, as long as you cripple this bastard for me, I'll transfer the two million right away!"
