The bullet punched a charred hole in the carpet, with a wisp of blue smoke curling out from it.
The doctor was so terrified his legs gave way, and he collapsed onto the floor, exposing the stunned expressions of the people standing behind him.
At this moment, the pitch-black muzzle of the gun was already aimed squarely at the head of the doctor sitting on the ground.
The doctor trembled violently, beads of sweat as large as soybeans rapidly forming and streaming down his face.
"P-please… please… don't… don't kill… kill me…"
The professor of a medical university, known for his eloquence on academic forums, now sat paralyzed on the floor, his legs stiff and numb, unable to even form coherent words.
Zhou Qi watched as Long Xiliang drew his gun, and he too began to tense up.
He wanted to inquire about Long Xiliang's condition, but reason told him now was not the time to speak. Any sound he made would only provoke this man's thunderous wrath.
