At the other end of the dining room, two crewmen hastily pushed back their chairs and craned their necks in this direction, unsure of what to do. Milady was only a few steps away from him. If Dao Mingke threw a punch, it would land right on her temple. Judging by his build and the size of his fists, if that punch truly connected, she would almost certainly be knocked unconscious.
"Don't you know yourself?" Milady asked, tilting her head. She didn't let a single trace of fear or anxiety show. "Still half-asleep today?"
"Looks to me like you're the one who hit their head today." The muscles in Dao Mingke's cheeks twitched. "You want to know what I do? I'm afraid words alone won't get through to you. But when my mercenary boots are busy snapping your ribs, you'll definitely know what I do then."