Zhou Keyu's body flew out like a kite with a snapped string, smashing heavily onto the floor.
Zhao Dong wasn't finished. He closed the distance in two steps, grabbed Zhou Keyu by the neck, and lifted him up as if he were a chick. Then, with a series of heavy blows, he began slapping Zhou Keyu's face, left and right.
Initially, Zhou Keyu hurled insults, but his words quickly devolved into pathetic howls, pleas for mercy, and unconscious screams of pain. Soon, his face swelled up beyond recognition. Blood streamed from his mouth, his eardrums were ruptured, and his eyes were swollen shut. His nose was broken and gushing blood. With seven or eight teeth knocked out, his face was a lopsided, bloody mess that resembled a pig's head.
Zhao Dong sneered, devoid of sympathy. He knew that if he hadn't been strong enough, this would have been his own fate.
