Yves still held his daughter tightly with one hand.
Not wanting to drag his boss into his personal mess, he said hurriedly,
"Boss, I can handle this. Nash, get him out of here."
Feng Mountain shook his head, drew the Glock 17L Combat Master from his waistband, and gently pressed the switch on the red dot sight.
Instantly, a striking red line shot out, landing right between the tattooed man's eyebrows.
At the same time, Nash just as quickly drew a Beretta 92F and aimed it at the men across from them. The atmosphere grew even more tense. It felt as if the slightest movement would trigger a fierce gunfight.
However, in the midst of this tense standoff, Feng Mountain acted as if nothing was happening. He began to talk to himself, his voice neither loud nor soft, but pitched perfectly for everyone present to hear.
