Jerry finally came to his senses, took a glance at the fat man, and then turned his gaze toward the crowd.
Amid the throng, a rugged one-eyed man wearing an eye patch and sporting a beard made his approach.
Jerry hastened to trot up to him: "Boss—"
But before he could go on, the one-eyed man extended a hand to stop him.
"You are—" the one-eyed man stared intently at the small silver gun in Wen Zao's hand.
"You guessed right, I am its master—" Wen Zao's nimble fingers deftly fiddled with the firearm, and he even cockily blew a breath toward the barrel.
Jerry was always good at brown-nosing, and having just suffered a setback from Wen Zao, now feeling emboldened by the number of his companions, he saw Wen Zao's cavalier attitude towards their boss, and immediately flew into a rage.
"You little bastard, how dare you talk to our boss with that attitude, do you fucking want to die!"
Jerry thought to seize the chance to show off in front of the boss and sought to impress.
