"So you're not going to be polite?" Qin Fan scoffed, his lips twisting into an annoyed sneer.
Without another word, he darted forward. He bent his knees mid-leap, and in that split second of ferocious momentum, the lead security guard barely registered a blur rushing toward him. Then, a dull THUD echoed from the man's abdomen. His body went light and shot high into the air. Like a kite with a snapped string, his robust frame—weighing no less than 187 pounds—was sent flying several meters away.
A coppery sweetness flooded his throat as he violently coughed up a mouthful of fresh blood.
"'Keeping a low profile is the surest way to protect yourself. Looking down on others is always the most foolish move," Qin Fan said, shaking his head slightly. He gave the dumbfounded security guards a cold smile. "Are you still going to stop me?"
SWOOSH!
Upon hearing his words, their eyes widened in reflex, pupils dilating in fear. The security guards scattered.
Stop him? That would be suicide!
