The attic, its roof torn off by the sandstorm, with only the bare walls remaining.
It suddenly dawned on Luo Daqiang. He freed a hand to offer his gun. "Here, Boss!"
Zhang Xianchao reached for it, but Luo Daqiang's hand slipped. The wind snatched the gun away, smashed it hard against Zhang Xianchao's face, and then whipped it out of sight.
Luo Daqiang was petrified, trembling in fear. Zhang Xianchao, his face twisted in agony, looked like he wanted to tear him in two. "You idiot!"
'If he weren't afraid of losing his footing, Zhang Xianchao would have kicked him long ago.'
'Once he gets through today in one piece, he's definitely going to hunt down that bullshit fortune-teller and tear him limb from limb.'
"CREAK… CREAK…"
They clung to the wall, and the iron door they were gripping creaked ominously.
Zhang Xianchao hoped the wind would get stronger and blow the door open, but he also didn't want them to be blown away. Panicked, he kicked at the door wildly.
