Zuo Bai leaped out the window to escape, incredulously shaking off Feng Yuhuai.
Without time to think, he covered his groin and quickly ran away.
But with no one chasing behind, he suddenly didn't know where to flee.
"Should I hide back in the taxi trunk first?"
This thought had barely surfaced when Zuo Bai himself was taken aback.
Unconsciously, that dark, cramped space had become the safest haven in his mind.
Zuo Bai turned his head to look at the road.
However, where his gaze reached, there was no "safe haven"; it had clearly turned into a miniature hell of flesh and steel intertwined.
Under the glow of the street lamps, two figures were fiercely battling, colliding, and separating at great speed, every collision erupting with a dull thunder-like sound of bone and flesh clashing, sometimes mingled with the sharp screech of twisted metal.
One of the figures, skinny and hunched, was his life-saving good-hearted friend "Old Huang," who looked quite wretched now.
