What The Hell?

"Who.?" The short and fat man stared at the crowd with his eyes wide open. "Who the hell are you? Come out now if you dare. Stop hiding."

The roar echoed in the venue. It's like a mad pit bull baring its teeth, frightening people from the bottom of their souls.

The crowd immediately looked around, trying to find the man out to calm the anger of this mad dog. After a while, like a river broken in the middle, the crowd automatically and consciously retreated to both sides.

Gradually, a large open space was left in the treasure fighting arena. There were only two people standing there.

A man and a woman.

One of them was Fannie.

The other person was——Irving.

He was like a standing monument, with his back straight and his eyes sharp.

The short and fat man snapped, "It's you again."

Irving still looks like an unchanging stone statue. Cold, lonely and arrogant.

The short and fat man roared: "Who are you calling worse than trash?"

Irving said coldly: "It seems that you are quite self-aware."

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