Jiang Ce said nothing. He simply dragged the man to the edge of the roof and flipped him over the railing.
The man, whose hair was styled in a tall pompadour, was held by the ankle, dangling in mid-air. When he opened his eyes, the several-dozen-meter drop made his head spin. Fear washed over him.
"Ah! What are you doing? Let go of me! Let go!"
"Let go? Sure," Jiang Ce replied expressionlessly, releasing his grip.
The man with the pompadour plummeted, shutting his eyes in terror. "AHH! No, don't let go!"
Jiang Ce switched hands, catching the man's ankle in mid-air and steadying him. As the punk swayed back and forth, true terror finally set in, and tears streamed down his face.
"Spare me, please! I'm begging you! I was wrong, just spare me!"
