Zhao Honglie had given Qian Jin quite a few silver notes earlier, but now that they were in his pocket, there was naturally no reason to hand them back!
Qian Jin didn't care whether Zhao Honglie truly had no money or was just pretending. If Zhao Honglie had money, he'd kill him and split it with Bai Yuqi; if not, taking Zhao Honglie's life would at least give Bai Yuqi an explanation. Either way, Qian Jin stood to gain without losing.
Qian Jin was ruthless. Just days ago, he was sharing drinks and calling Zhao Honglie a brother, yet now, as he attacked, there wasn't a hint of mercy.
The steel fork in his hand repeatedly stabbed toward Zhao Honglie's kidneys, buttocks, and groin—those critical parts.
Zhao Honglie realized that reconciliation was impossible now. As a bandit, the kind of fearless ferocity unique to those who had nothing to lose surged forth.
His teeth clenched lightly as the Boiling Blood Pill hidden beneath his jaw was swallowed.
