They each cast a taunting gaze at Su Ming, their hands gripping steel pipes that swayed constantly.
The man at the head of the group was a bald thug, a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth.
"You must be Su Ming? Someone paid us to take one of your arms, are you coming on your own, or shall we do it for you?"
The bald thug revealed a set of large yellow teeth, grimacing evilly as he spoke, his eyes reflecting pure malice.
Upon hearing this, Su Ming scanned his surroundings, realizing it was already late at night, eerily quiet, with no one else around.
He watched as a dozen or so burly thugs armed with steel pipes slowly closed in on him, his face turning extremely grim.
He was all alone, unarmed, without anything for self-defense.
There was no way he could break through the encirclement of these weapon-wielding hooligans.
Moreover, he was with a thin, frail young man who seemed incapable of even tying up a chicken, which dashed all hope.
