Watching Hugh Sterling touch Joy Shaw's face, in that instant, Marcus Knight's eyes turned cold, tinged with a hint of rage.
Joy Shaw frowned and shook off Hugh Sterling's hand.
Hugh Sterling was somewhat annoyed, "Miss Shaw, don't refuse a toast..."
Before he could finish speaking, a bottle of mineral water was fiercely thrown at Hugh Sterling's face.
Hugh Sterling cried out in pain, "Damn it, who dares to hit me!"
Marcus Knight stepped closer, his face devoid of warmth, said nothing, and grabbed Hugh Sterling's hand, twisting it back.
"Ah—" Hugh Sterling let out a scream akin to a pig being slaughtered.
The hand was almost broken!
"Brother Sterling!" Hugh Sterling's buddies hurried forward, trying to help.
Marcus Knight had been trained in The Southern Division since he was fifteen; these few people couldn't get near him.
Even together, they were completely wiped out.
