Qin Heng hadn't taken that Sun Biao seriously before.
Mere ants, squashed with one slap, simply unworthy of his concern.
The airport shuttle bus continued on its way.
Qin Heng was resting with his eyes closed on the bus. After traveling some distance, he suddenly frowned, opened his eyes, and looked outside. Four Wuling Hongguang vans were driving over.
One of them directly blocked the road, preventing the shuttle from moving forward.
Then, the doors of these vehicles opened, and more than thirty men emerged, holding steel knives, stun batons, and baseball bats. They charged toward the bus, surrounding it.
The one leading them was Sun Biao from earlier. He now had a bandaged head, still showing some bloodstains. Standing beside him was a middle-aged man in a suit, looking quite imposing.
The two had somewhat similar faces, possibly brothers.
"The kid playing tricks just now, get the hell off the bus!" Sun Biao yelled, holding a steel knife in his hand.
