Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!
In the silence of the stuffy office, heavy panting echoed.
A wet, sticky sound sounded as blood and saliva dripped onto the floor.
Everyone stared wide-eyed, witnessing a miracle of life.
Seeing that it was working, Ji Jue slapped him even harder. Under one slap after another, the choking man's face rapidly swelled, and at last, his chest began to rise and fall.
But the moment Ji Jue stopped, he couldn't catch his breath again.
His complexion swiftly turned bluish-purple.
He looked even worse than before!
"No, I'm running out of strength."
Ji Jue nervously called for help, like a college student who never exercised and couldn't even finish an 800-meter run. "Everyone, help out!"
After all, a human life was at stake. No matter how cold-hearted they were, how could they stand by and do nothing at a time like this?
They all rolled up their sleeves and reached out to help.
Each one rushed to be first.
Whenever one got tired, another took over.
The crackling sound of slaps continued until the ambulance arrived and he was placed on a stretcher.
The stunned nurses had never seen such a bizarre scene before—a group of people lining up to take turns slapping someone across the face. He had practically suffered a concussion, yet they kept going. For a moment, the nurses actually didn't dare step forward to treat him.
Oh no, could this be some cult headquarters?
Fortunately, the young man with the pleasant smile took the initiative to maintain order, having everyone take the victim away for emergency treatment. By the time he was loaded into the vehicle, his face had swollen completely round.
"Whew, good thing nothing happened."
Ji Jue watched the ambulance drive away, finally sighed in relief, and wiped the sweat