"Trash!"
"A bunch of worthless trash!"
The resentment in the hearts of the eighteen Heavenly Kings had long been simmering, but it had finally reached its boiling point. Qin Fan's words were the fuse that ignited their pent-up frustration, triggering an explosion of pure rage! Yes, they were humiliated year after year, always finishing last. But that gave some young punk no right to insult them! In that instant, they all clenched their jaws, their fists tightening with the sharp crack of popping knuckles.
Ignoring the furious faces before him, Qin Fan began to count coldly. "One!"
"Two!"
"Three!"
"Very good." A grim smile touched Qin Fan's lips. The moment the words left his mouth, he shot his hand forward, grabbing the collar of the soldier who had just boasted about venting his frustration.
"That was you, wasn't it?" Qin Fan asked, his gaze indifferent.
"So what if it was!" Pushed to the brink, the soldier held nothing back, roaring in fury.
