Flip the table and divide the family property! Take his wife and daughter into the mountains and eat

Scarface Liu shuddered violently.

Ma Hou was his good brother who had risked his life with him, but in the end, he ran off with his money and wife.

Now, the money has been stolen, and his wife is left at his feet like a crippled dog.

Only Song Honglan's mournful, drafty cries remained on the open ground.

Scarface Liu stared intently at the woman lying on the ground, a mass of rotten flesh, his chest heaving violently. Gradually, the flesh around his eyes began to twitch.

"Ha ha……"

A strange laugh, like a broken bellows, squeezed out of his leaky mouth. The laughter grew louder and louder, finally turning into a hysterical roar.

He laughed so hard his whole body convulsed, the chains rattled and clanged as they were pulled, and black blood splattered everywhere from his chin.

"Karma...fuck you, this is karma!"

Scarface Liu roared at Song Honglan on the ground like a madman, spitting everywhere: "You ran after that piece of trash! Didn't you look down on me for being a crippled good-for-nothing? Look at the mess you've made of now!"

Hearing the frenzied curses, Song Honglan trembled with fear.

She could only desperately bury her head in the cinders, letting out desperate sobs.

Scarface Liu had laughed enough.

He was breathing heavily, his head drooping limply.

Those bloodshot eyes, which had remained silent until now, had dimmed like ashes.

Suddenly, his broken chest convulsed violently.

Without warning, two streams of murky tears welled up in his bloodied and mangled face.

Tears mixed with thick, black blood streamed down his pockmarked cheeks, splattering onto his tattered clothes.

He first choked back a sob, his blood-stained shoulders heaving uncontrollably.

Then, he suddenly tilted his head back, opened his slurred mouth, and burst into tears.

"ah--"

"Aaaaaahh ...

The piercing wails, like the blood-curdling of an owl, instantly shattered the deathly silence of the junkyard.

He shook his head frantically like a madman with a plague, rattling the rusty iron chains hanging on his wrists, his whole body twisting wildly in mid-air.

"You son of a bitch...you're a fucking animal!"

Scarface Liu wailed and sobbed, screaming hysterically, "You've really gone too far! You're even more ruthless than me! I'm a fucking... fucking a blind bastard!"

He cried his heart out, and mouthfuls of black blood gushed from his mouth along with his screams.

The group of desperados who were used to seeing severed arms and legs felt a chill run down their spines as they looked at the crazed man in mid-air, swallowing hard in horror.

Only Wang Biao stood to the side, slowly turning the jade ring on his thumb.

After venting for two or three minutes, Scarface Liu finally exhausted his last bit of strength.

He stopped wailing, leaving only sobs like a broken bellows in his throat.

He raised his head again, his eyes, which had been red and swollen from being washed with tears and had remained silent, now dimmed like ashes, staring straight at Wang Biao.

"Wang Biao".

Scarface Liu's voice was hoarse, as if he were holding a handful of shards of glass, carrying a deathly air of desperation: "I can point out to you the rat hole where Old Scar is hiding."

Wang Biao grinned, raised his chin, and held a cigar between his fingers.

"But I have one condition."

Scarface Liu suddenly jerked downwards, staring intently at Song Honglan, who was lying on the frozen ground, like a dying wolf.

"Put me down and give me a knife."

He spat out each word through gritted teeth, each syllable dripping with the stench of blood: "I'm going to skin this slut alive with my own hands! And that bastard Ma Hou, you'd better spare his life too, I'm going to kill him myself!"

Wang Biao didn't say anything, but just chuckled softly.

His heavy double chin trembled with laughter as he slowly tossed the nearly burnt-out cigar from his fingertips onto the ground and crushed it into crumbs with the tip of his shiny leather shoe.

"No problem."

Wang Biao agreed without the slightest hesitation, as readily as if he were casually adding something to his order at the market.

He gestured with his chin toward Scarface Liu, who was hanging in mid-air: "That traitorous monkey, back in the woods with you, didn't you beat him to a pulp? When he was handed over to me, he was covered in blood, half dead. I figured he was still useful, so I had someone leave him in the county hospital to keep him alive."

After saying that, Wang Biao raised his chubby hand, which was adorned with a jade ring, and casually waved it in mid-air.

"Xiao Long, put Scarface down and give him the knife."

The burly man paused for a moment, but didn't dare ask any more questions. He quickly strode over to the iron frame and pushed open the winch's latch.

"Splash—"

The taut iron chain suddenly loosened.

Scarface Liu, like a tattered sandbag, slammed heavily onto the frozen soil covered in coal ash.

His broken ribs slammed against the ground, causing him to convulse violently in pain, and he suddenly spat out a mouthful of black blood mixed with fragments of internal organs.

Clang.

A folding knife with a blood groove was casually tossed over by the burly man. It bounced twice on the cinder ground and landed right next to Scarface Liu's blood-stained hand.

Not far away, Song Honglan saw the gleaming knife and scrambled backward in terror, letting out desperate screams.

Wang Biao looked down at Scarface Liu, who was lying on the ground like a rag doll, and a smile crept out from the corner of his eye.

"Scarface, we're all men of principle; we have to do things the right way. You go ahead and deal with this bastard first, and calm yourself down."

He slowly pulled out another cigar, sniffed it, and his voice held a venomous, seductive quality: "After you kill her, you'll have to spit out Old Scar's rat hole. As long as the address matches, I'll immediately send someone to the hospital to pick her up. In less than two hours, Ma Hou will be kneeling before you. Then, whether you want to skin her alive or burn her alive is entirely up to you. Does that sound reasonable?"

"Makes sense...it makes so much sense."

Scarface Liu lay prone on the cinder ground, his throat gurgling out heavy, labored breaths like a broken bellows.

He trembled as he reached out his mud- and blood-stained hand and grabbed the folding knife on the ground.

With the sharp blade pressed against the frozen ground, he forced himself to sit up, his broken ribs barely supporting him, like a lump of mud.

"Wait."

Scarface Liu suddenly stopped moving.

He slowly raised his head. On his bloodied and mangled face, his eyes were completely covered with blood vessels, so red they looked like they were about to bleed.

He stared intently at Wang Biao, his slit lips parted, and he gave a bitter smile that was more like a grimace than a cry.

"Brother Biao just said that we're doing business."

Scarface Liu, panting heavily, slowly straightened up halfway, wiping his blood-stained left hand haphazardly on his tattered clothes. "Since this is a big deal, we should aim for harmony and good fortune. Now that the deal is done, shouldn't we... shake hands?"

The group of desperados around them were all stunned.

The burly man instinctively gripped the triangular iron in his hand, looking at the half-dead old man as if he were a madman.

Wang Biao was also slightly taken aback.

Immediately, the bulge at the corner of his eye completely relaxed, and a low, extremely pleased laugh escaped his throat.

"oh."

Wang Biao, with a cigar between his fingers, looked down at Scarface Liu, whose spine had been completely crushed, his eyes filled with arrogant condescension and mockery.

"Scarface is particular."

Wang Biao slowly took half a step forward, generously extending his thick hand, adorned with a jade ring, to Scarface Liu.

Scarface Liu stared intently at the fat hand, his right hand, gripping the folding knife, suddenly turned white at the knuckles.

He shakily raised his left hand, reaching out to meet Wang Biao's palm, and slowly extended it.

The cold wind whipped up sparks from the gasoline can, swirling wildly between the two men.

Just as their hands were about to touch.

"Bang!"

A deafening gunshot ripped through the night sky above the junkyard without warning.