"You're about to die. What's the use of holding it?" Lin Chuan sneered at Song Ming.
Song Ming swallowed, "You...you're going to kill me?"
"That's right!" Lin Chuan nodded, "Anyone who dares to point a gun at me only has one outcome—death. So, you can't escape that fate either. Deputy Secretary Song, your son is dead, why don't you go down and keep him company?"
"You!" Song Ming gritted his teeth.
"Kneel!" Lin Chuan shouted.
"Never!" Song Ming glared angrily.
Lin Chuan rushed forward with a swift step, kicking the back of Song Ming's knee. Song Ming immediately knelt on the carpet, struggling to stand up, but Lin Chuan aimed the dark gun muzzle at Song Ming's forehead. Lin Chuan spoke coldly, "Deputy Secretary Song, if you dare stand up, I'll blow your head off. Believe it?"
Gulp...
Song Ming swallowed, staying motionless on the carpet, his tone softened, "Lin Chuan, please...don't kill me."
