On the podium, Feng Ju felt as if he had fallen into an ice cave, the color drained from his face, turning as pale as a sheet of paper.
His eyes were fixed on that dense blood mist, as if he wanted to see through the layer of blood to find his daughter's figure.
Luo Ji's face was equally grim, looking as if he had lost his first love, praying frantically in his heart:
"Don't die, don't die... I haven't succeeded in bonding yet. Feng Yuhuai, you better not die too quickly!"
Zuo Bai couldn't sit still any longer. He abruptly stood up and quickly walked toward the stage. His right hand unconsciously rubbed the rim of his glasses, and his fingertips trembled slightly; behind the lenses, his gaze was as cold as if covered with a layer of ice.
He muttered quietly to himself, his voice filled with suppressed anger:
"A bunch of idiots, move gently! I want her alive! If you kill her, I'll feed you all to E-37 when I get back!"
In front of the TV.
