"Aim that syringe at me again, and believe me, I'll feed you bullets,"
"No good, clean it more thoroughly!"
Just like that, Qian Fu wiped his clothes with the syringe eighteen times, cautious and gingerly.
Many times, he almost turned the syringe on Zhang Fan. However, Zhang Fan's gun barrel was firmly against his forehead.
A feeling of extreme frustration filled Qian Fu's chest.
This was the first time he had been pushed to such an extent.
And most importantly, damn it, was it necessary to wipe it eighteen times?
Meanwhile, the group at the command center was tightly focused on the small syringe.
They knew exactly what it was, ah, the Poison Spider's signature move.
The command center, originally filled with a very tense atmosphere, burst into laughter at Qian Fu's look of deep resentment.
This, seriously, was a Poison Spider assassin? He looked just like a resentful woman!
Several girls laughed so hard they bent forward and backward!
