Huang Yu stared at Gu Qiaoqiao with a face as gloomy as water, and could not help but feel his heart tremble. However, having been arrogant for years, he couldn't easily admit defeat.
So, Huang Yu sneered grimly, "Aren't you very formidable? You can go and guess for yourself, or take a look at what's worth getting excited about in that stretch of sea..."
"Are you really not going to tell?"
"I don't know."
Gu Qiaoqiao's lips curled, her pitch-black eyes like a deep pool without a bottom. Suddenly, she made her move, grasping Huang Yu's jaw forcibly, and though Huang Yu tried to shake free, Gu Qiaoqiao's small hand controlled him tightly. That small hand, which appeared fair and tender, felt like iron pincers at the moment, and carried an unbearable stabbing pain.
Gu Qiaoqiao pulled out a pair of pliers from her pocket!
Precisely, it wasn't a Spirit Talisman or a slingshot pistol, but a pair of rusty pliers.
