"Peng, peng, peng, peng your mother's leg!" Sulon cursed angrily, kicking Ye Qing again, and shouted, "Shut the fuck up, you old bastard! Your fingers may not be worth anything. But if you really want to make trouble, I can help you take them off!"
Ye Qing furrowed his brow tightly, the killing intent in his heart reaching its peak. Yet, he just didn't have the strength to deal with these little punks.
"Get the fuck out of here!" A member of the Street Racing Gang pushed Ye Qing aside, grabbed the big girl by the arm, and lifted her up, laughing loudly, "Come, come, come, let me chop off a finger first. Damn it, Young Master Ou beat someone at the track the other day, and his prestige was ruined. Today, I'll take a finger over there and see who's really more badass!"
"Then why bother with fingers? Just chop off a hand, wouldn't that do?" someone laughed.
