Chapter 120 I Miss You

Ten minutes later.

The twenty or so thugs retreated, panting. They either slumped to the ground, braced their knees with their hands, or leaned against the railing of the bridge. They were so tired that they looked like old cattle that had plowed three acres of land in one go. They had no energy left to continue smacking.

"Fuck, is this car made of steel? My hands are numb from smashing it, but I