"No matter how lowly one's status is, one still has the right to enjoy a performance. We can't treat those people with contempt just because they're incompetent and useless..."
"Do you understand?"
When the man said this, Feng San lowered his head even lower.
"Understood, Mr. Luo."
"You don't really understand."
Mr. Luo's smile deepened: "It's just that you don't dare to refute me."
"No, no, Mr. Luo, I..."
"No need to explain, it doesn't matter."
Mr. Luo sighed, "There aren't many smart people in this world. I just hope you're not so stupid that I'm disgusted by you."
Feng San swallowed hard.
"Get out."
Mr. Luo waved his hand.
Feng San felt relieved.
"Mr. Luo, what about the Sword God and the Fist Saint..."
"Let them kill as much as they want!"
Mr. Luo said calmly, "We can afford to lose this little money. They will earn it back for us sooner or later."
Feng San wiped the sweat from his forehead and didn't dare to say anything more: "Okay, then I'll go get to work."
As he spoke, Feng San bent down and backed away little by little until he reached the door, then turned and left.
As soon as he opened the door, Feng San bumped into someone.
Feng San still had his head down, but he saw the clothes worn by the person he bumped into.
Black background with gold lines.
VIP!
Feng San raised his head little by little.
Before he could see clearly, the VIP in front of him pressed his head and threw him aside.
"Get out of here! You blind dog!"
The VIP cursed in disgust.
Feng San was thrown out the door.
Bang!
The door was closed.
A hint of viciousness immediately flashed in Feng San's eyes.
At the same time, the voice of Mr. Luo, who was sitting in the office chair, came from the room.
"Oh! Big Brother! What brings you here? Why didn't you notify me in advance?"
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