BANG!
The ground cracked, sending dust and debris flying everywhere. "Keep going!" Qin Fan commanded, completely ignoring the sound.
THUD!
CRASH!
THUD!
CRASH!
Having no choice, Bao Qiudong fell and scrambled back to his feet repeatedly. It took him seven falls before he could finally force his trembling, swaying body to stay upright.
But before Bao Qiudong could utter a word, the very moment he stood, Qin Fan's face turned frighteningly cold. He shot out a hand and seized him by the throat. Without another word, Qin Fan strode toward the balcony, holding him aloft. Carried by his neck, Bao Qiudong seemed to understand what was coming, and endless despair filled his bulging eyes. He wanted to struggle, to flail like a dying man, but how could he summon any strength from a body already hollowed out by fear? Aside from the muffled groans tearing at his throat, he was utterly powerless.
