As soon as she finished speaking, Chen Daoguang, seated at the prosecution's bench beside the public prosecutor, couldn't restrain himself and scoffed, "Innocent?"
"You actually claim you're innocent?"
"How dare you say that about yourself?"
"If you hadn't pulled out that folding knife and attacked, how could my son, along with three others, have ended up dead or injured?"
"You're absolutely evil incarnate!"
As he said this, his eyes turned bloodshot, and tears welled up. The man, no longer able to withstand the pressure, seemed to choke on his words.
Huang Lan's words had deeply wounded him, striking him as unbearably harsh and chilling.
In the face of such a tragic loss of life, Huang Lan showed absolutely no remorse, no shame whatsoever.
What chilled him even more was the so-called public prosecutor beside him, who seemed to completely disregard his pain of losing a son, suggesting only an eight-year prison sentence!
