Fatty Wood lowered his head, looking gloomy.
He originally came to collect that eight million, but unexpectedly, not only did he fail to retrieve the money, he's the one bleeding now.
Two pieces of collectibles, it's going to cost him dearly!
"Damn it, how is this little bastard so formidable!" he muttered to himself, feeling a bit helpless.
"Forget it, a wise man doesn't fight when the odds are against him. I'll endure for now and take care of those bastards later." Fatty Wood calculated in his mind, still with his head down, he let out a cold laugh.
Andrew Jones's sharp eyes caught this, and he slapped him.
"What the hell are you laughing at!"
"Old Master Jones, gently!" Fatty Wood said with a pained expression.
Then, crestfallen, he made his way toward the car.
Just at this moment, he saw a convoy of vehicles driving down the opposite road, led by a black BMW, followed by several vans, aggressively approaching.
