"Throwing out the garbage?" Ying Hao frowned, "What kind of garbage?"
"It's... just household garbage. I made breakfast this morning and saw I still had time, so... I thought I'd go throw out the garbage, then come back. But unexpectedly, while throwing away the garbage, I encountered a mentally ill person who ran out of someone else's home, kept pulling at me, and kept me there for several minutes. By the time I got back, the breakfast was burnt."
"..."
A mentally ill person?
Finally, a keyword was heard.
Ying Hao exchanged a glance with the man standing there. After a moment, Ying Hao stood up, and the man came forward again. He hauled the homeowner, who was still sprawled on the ground, and slammed him hard against the wall behind him: "What mentally ill person? Speak quickly!"
Those were eyes that could instill deathly fear—bloodthirsty, dangerous, icy, just like a beast thoroughly provoked. At this moment, this man was truly terrifying.
