DRIP. DRIP.
Chen Xicheng's blood flowed from the boardroom table, dripping to the floor and gradually forming a crimson pool. His mangled head was a gruesome sight. The thick scent of blood filled the entire boardroom. Many board members fainted from fright, while the few who remained conscious stared at Qin Heng in absolute horror, their eyes wide as if they had seen a ghost.
Oh my God! This isn't some poor kid! He's clearly a god of death! He actually slammed Chen Xicheng to death without even blinking! It wasn't like killing a person at all, more like crushing an ant—utterly insignificant to him. Terrifying! This is truly terrifying!
These board members of Chen's Financial Group, who usually held themselves high and mighty in Tianhai's upper echelons, controlling vast wealth and power, were now so terrified they went limp, unable to utter a word.
