Bang!
A dry, sharp sound echoed.
The entire cafe fell silent.
Cheng Jiang, using only his left hand, effortlessly caught the bodyguard’s thousand-pound punch.
His face showed no change in expression.
The bodyguard’s eyes widened in terror; he tried to pull his hand back but couldn’t budge it an inch.
Cheng Jiang exerted a little force, and the sound of the bodyguard’s hand bones shattering into pieces rang out horrifyingly, accompanied by a bloodcurdling scream.
The second bodyguard, seeing this, tried to rush forward to help.
Cheng Jiang spun around, delivering a powerful kick to his stomach.
His imposing, over 100-kilogram frame flew backward, shattering the cafe’s tempered glass and crashing into the hood of Xing Ye’s Porsche outside.
The car was deformed, and the alarm blared loudly.
The lawyer, terrified, fell to the ground, papers flying everywhere.
Xing Ye’s face was ashen, her legs trembling uncontrollably, staring at Cheng Jiang as if he were a monster.
Cheng Jiang calmly bent down and picked up the lawsuit document that had fallen to the ground.
He tore it in half with two fingers, then into quarters, letting the fragments fall onto Xing Ye’s face.
He leaned closer to the trembling young lady’s ear and said in a low voice:
“Your money was very valuable yesterday. But from today onwards, the rules of the game are decided by my fists. The debt of Er Ya is wiped clean. What do you think, young lady?”
Xing Ye swallowed hard, nodding in utter helplessness and fear.
Cheng Jiang put his hands in his pockets, turned his back, and walked away.
Er Ya, now looking at Cheng Jiang with a mixture of awe and reverence, hurriedly followed him like a shadow.
Cheng Jiang looked up at the evening sky on July 2nd, which was gradually turning blood red, a slight smile playing on his lips.
In this era, he would be the master.