"You bitch, you even kicked me! Strip her clothes off, and once I'm done with her, she's yours!" Zhao Jin ordered the men, his face contorted with pain.
Four or five people rushed towards Mo Jing. They thought that with Mo Jing's hands tied, they could easily deal with her. But no one expected that Mo Jing would suddenly stand up.
They quickly retreated behind the chair and kicked it in front of them, blocking their path.
Just then, the door, which was not closed properly to begin with, was kicked open, and Ling Moyuan appeared before everyone with a cold and stern face like the Grim Reaper.
The door was kicked open forcefully, causing some white dust to float in the air, but even so, it couldn't hide the unparalleled elegance of the man standing in the doorway.
The moment this man appeared, Zhao Jin, a seasoned veteran of the underworld, instinctively knew it was dangerous. He quickly got up to grab Mo Jing, because this man's appearance was definitely for her. Taking her hostage was certainly the right thing to do.
But Ling Moyuan was even faster; with a flick of his wrist, he fired a shot into Zhao Jin's left calf. Zhao Jin, writhing in pain, knelt, blood seeping from his leg. Before he could recover from the pain, another gunshot rang out, and his right foot was also struck, leaving him helplessly kneeling on the ground.
Then came a series of gunshots. Ling Moyuan didn't even blink as he put a bullet into the legs of the remaining four men, doing his job cleanly and efficiently.
Only those who are powerless to resist are the safest. By injuring their legs, they will have no chance to continue their mischief. Although with his skills, this was completely unnecessary, Mo Jing was here, and he couldn't allow any chance of anything going wrong.
Ling Moyuan, gun in hand, strode in with a cool and confident air.
His expression was indifferent, as if he had merely stepped on an ant. His marksmanship was swift, accurate, and ruthless, without the slightest hesitation or mercy.
However, upon seeing the obvious slap mark on Mo Jing's face and the pinch marks on her jaw, his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. His hand acted faster than his brain, and he touched her pale cheek, asking with some concern, "Are you hurt? Who hit you?"
Ling Moyuan's hands, like him, were slightly cold, but Mo Jing could clearly feel the warmth emanating from her face, and seemed to sense Ling Moyuan's concern through his well-defined knuckles. "It's nothing," Mo Jing said nonchalantly. What did a little injury matter when it came to achieving her goal?
But Ling Moyuan didn't like her answer. He didn't want to see her hurt, not even in the slightest. Thinking of this, his sharp eyes narrowed, filled with danger.
Before Mo Jing could react, Ling Moyuan's hand had already left her face, and a dozen slaps followed, accompanied by cracking sounds like dislocations.
Mo Jing was stunned. Ling Moyuan had actually slapped each of them twice, and even dislocated their jaws.
His face was red and swollen, and there were even traces of blood oozing out, which showed how much force he had used.
These people had their dislocated mouths agape, unable to even cry out in pain.
Mo Jing thought that someone like Ling Moyuan was arrogant and generally didn't like to slap people. He would either ignore those he didn't like or make them disappear forever. But now he was doing something he used to disdain, just to avenge her. Mo Jing's eyes flickered, making it hard to see clearly.
*******
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