"I will think about it seriously."
Luo Qiu gave this response to Song Ying's question.
Of course, Song Ying didn't expect to receive the answer she anticipated—because this guy was too calm... so calm it was almost frightening.
No matter how strong a person is, or how indifferent one is to life and death, or even just pretending to be calm, there are always traces to be found.
He neither showed sympathy for the cheating white man nor was moved by the severed hand. As for the scene of feeding the crocodile at the end, it was more like watching a circus performance—and not a very exciting one at that.
Either he was extremely cold-blooded, or he was naturally lacking in emotions—or perhaps these things were just child's play to him.
"Who exactly are you?" Song Ying once again stared at Luo Qiu, trying hard to catch any tiny change in his expression.
"To you all, I am just Luo Qiu," Luo Qiu thought for a moment.
"To us?" Song Ying frowned, "And not to us, then who are you?"
