"Who? Who the hell dares to cut me off? I'll kill him!"
The Mad Bull cursed and swore, feeling extremely outraged that someone dared interrupt him. This was undoubtedly a desecration of his authority—sheer madness.
Immediately, the Mad Bull widened his eyes, his face full of anger and hatred, turning coldly to look at the person standing at the door.
Somewhat familiar! Oh, no. It should be, very familiar.
With a head full of silver frost hair, standing at 1.75 meters, slightly on the lean side, and especially those crimson eyes, full of presence and murderous intent.
The expression on the Mad Bull's face instantly froze, his brain suddenly went blank, his round eyeballs shrinking to the size of peas, his face filled with shock, fear, and panic.
What's this guy's name again?
"Mad Bull, what the hell are you doing? Just now, someone was provoking you, shouldn't you have slapped that bastard a dozen times?"
