A large pool of blood flowed from the woman's body, staining the clean street red.
The woman lay on the ground, her hands twitching. She hadn't died instantly. It seemed she still had some strength left. She managed to lift her delicate face—soaked with tears and steeped in terror—and let out a silent scream. Her hands clawed desperately forward, as if trying to drag her body away.
Then, the middle-aged man walked over, cursing under his breath. He stomped viciously on the woman's body a few times before pulling out a pistol, aiming it at the back of her head, and pulling the trigger.
BANG!!
After another gunshot, the woman's body convulsed ceaselessly, but she could no longer move.
Zhou Yuanjue watched this scene, a bit stunned. He didn't seem to expect something like this to happen on the street.
However, the other pedestrians on the street merely frowned slightly, showing their displeasure, but took no further action. It was as if they were already accustomed to such scenes.
