On the pitch-black highway, the Prado that Jiang Angge was riding in was racing madly forward, the speed of the car surged to its limit, giving an impression of lightning speed at first glance.
At this moment, Jiang Angge was sitting in the back seat of the Prado, his body trembling violently, and his waxy yellow face was full of distortion, with a hint of malice emerging in his cloudy eyes.
After several days of torment, Jiang Angge truly understood the meaning of wishing for death. The inability to sleep or drink water had inflicted a huge mental toll on him!
"Young master, it's fine now."
Seeing Jiang Angge's body shaking, Wu Chengyi, sitting beside him, spoke in a low voice: "After we return to the Capital, I will report everything here to the master, and then we will carry out the fiercest revenge against them!"
As Wu Chengyi spoke, his voice was deep, and between the lines, it was filled with solemnity.
"This matter... I want to tell father personally!"
