HISS!
The stomp straightened Liao Wei's back, and beads of cold sweat broke out across his forehead. The pain was agonizing. His body, ravaged by years of hedonism, was strong on the outside but weak on the inside. When Shen Fanyun suddenly made his move, he could count himself lucky he didn't faint on the spot.
"Where did this bastard come from? Let President Liao go!" a middle-aged man shouted, leaping to his feet and pointing at Shen Fanyun.
Shen Fanyun remained calm, his gaze fixed on the badge pinned to the man's chest. Is he a member of the Charity Association? Or perhaps one of the gang who holds a part-time position at the association—doesn't have to donate a penny, yet draws a high salary?
