"That's right, if you're afraid, just say you're afraid, stop with all that nonsense!"
"What a spineless coward!"
"This kid is actually speaking up for the Japanese, could he be a colonel?"
"Haha, he looks just like a traitor!"
The crowd began to mock them again.
Da da da!
Just then, a series of footsteps suddenly came from afar.
A group of Japanese men in suits suddenly arrived.
These people were all tall and had cold expressions, giving off a powerful sense of pressure.
Tang Tao's group consisted of young people who had never seen anything like this before, and they couldn't help but take two steps back.
The man at the head of the group was wearing a long-sleeved kimono and had a tang-style haircut with only a tuft of hair in the middle, which looked quite comical.
But at this moment, he ran in front of the Toyota in his wooden clogs, his face gradually contorting and trembling, shouting, "Baka!!"
"Who did this?"
The Japanese driver in the car quickly ran off and whispered a few words in his ear.
The man's gaze turned cold as he glared at Tang Tao, unable to hold back his shout: "You! Do you know whose car this is?"
"This is our chairman's car! You dare to smash our chairman's car? This is not over!" Murakami shouted angrily.
He is Akiki Murakami's nephew and is in charge of managing the pedestrian street. Now that the chairman's car has been smashed here, isn't this a slap in his face?
The chairman's car?
Tang Tao's heart skipped a beat, but he still stubbornly said, "I don't care whose car it is. I'm rich, I'll just pay you back, that's all."
"Pay up?" Murakami burst into laughter, then abruptly stopped, his voice turning sinister. "This car is a limited edition Toyota Century. There are only three in the entire country of Japan. It's worth three hundred million. Are you sure you can afford to pay for it?"
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