Song Er-Ye leaned his heavy, beer-bloated gut against the triage counter.
His eyes were streaked with yellow bile, his breath reeking of expensive whiskey and rotting liver.
Beside him, Boss Liu, Boss Qian, and Boss Zhao grinned smugly. Their sixteen bodyguards stood in a menacing semicircle, crossing their arms and glaring at the crowd of sick workers.
“Did you hear me, old quack?” Song Er-Ye barked at Dr. Gu. “Fifty million yuan cash! Give us eight bottles of the lotus medicine right now, or my family will pull your operating licenses!”
Before Dr. Gu could speak, a massive shadow fell over Song Er-Ye’s face.
Tie Niu stepped up to the counter.
His six-foot-four frame blocked the ceiling lights. His massive chest muscles pressed against his dark suit, radiating the quiet menace of an elite combat veteran.
Tie Niu looked down at Song Er-Ye like a giant looking at a fat beetle.
