"Fu-k you!"
In a villa in the Charleston Suburb, Vasel Wen crouched down, pinning a white man's head with his left knee, holding a gun firmly against the man's temple.
At this moment, Vasel Wen's glasses had been thrown aside, his face full of rage, he shouted sharply:
"Herman! Do you want to die?"
The white man on the ground was about thirty years old. Because his head was pinned, his face was somewhat distorted.
Even so, even with the gun against his temple, Herman showed no fear. Instead, he grinned and said indistinctly:
"Shoot me, if you've got the balls to kill me."
Hearing this, Vasel Wen became even more enraged, his whole body trembling with excitement.
"Boss, calm down a bit."
At this moment, not far away, the demolitionist, Gold Teeth Vernon, approached. Waving his phone, he grinned with his gold teeth showing and said in a low voice:
"The local cops are acting strangely; they are organizing and heading towards this area."
"..."
