Li Qiang took a deep breath and cursed angrily, "Who is it, tell me, hurry up and tell me!"
"No... no!" The other party shook their head vigorously.
"Damn it, refusing a toast only to drink a forfeit." Li Qiang cursed and, with a crunching sound, twisted the opponent's arm until it broke.
The disciples of the Hong Gate were stunned, wide-eyed with fright, frozen like statues.
"Speak, hurry up and speak." Li Qiang began to search the crowd frantically for the next target to attack.
The others bowed their heads, afraid to speak.
Seeing them still being stubborn, Li Qiang was infuriated, and with a few punches and kicks, crippled a few of them.
The scene was filled with the wails of ghosts, immensely tragic, resembling a living hell.
"You all won't talk, right?" Li Qiang gritted his teeth and said, "Brothers, break one of each of their arms for me."
