Zhang Dahua stared intently at Yang Qi's back and the approaching tiger. He was scared too, but he knew that pulling someone back now would cause a commotion. For a tiger, that would be a provocation, easily leading to a dangerous situation.
Besides, he trusted Yang Qi. He immediately growled, "Don't move! Don't scream! Watch the Director, and don't cause any trouble!"
In that brief moment of hesitation, Yang Qi had already walked seven or eight meters away, while Lian Po was now only thirty or forty meters from the crowd.
At this distance, the tiger's immense size, its gaunt yet powerful musculature, its cold amber eyes, and the suffocatingly intense wildness emanating from it were all terrifyingly clear.
Everyone held their breath, their hearts threatening to leap out of their throats.
Song Dacheng's hand rested on his holster, fingers trembling as large beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.
'Shoot?'
'What if I provoke it and it lunges at the crowd?'
