"Oh ho? Didn't expect you're one of the minority?" Song Yun looked at the man in black, amused.
"If you know what's good for you, let me go quickly, and I can let bygones be bygones!" The man in black said, gasping for air.
Song Yun slightly increased the force in his hand and said, "You know the one phrase I hate most?"
The man in black didn't speak, his hand felt like it was caught in a blender, so painful he almost passed out.
Song Yun continued on his own, "There's a saying that divides people here into five levels, first, second, third, fourth, fifth—it's a clear division indeed. Although there's some truth to it, it's the phrase I detest the most. So today, you're out of luck."
With that, Song Yun suddenly increased his strength,
crack, crack.
The man in black cried out in pain.
Song Yun released his grip, and the man in black's hand was left in a mess, with fingers bent bizarrely—it looked like a fracture.
