Hatton's voice echoed through the room. His face was flushed, and his eyes were fixed on Xia Lun.
But Xia Lun did not get angry. He remained in his wheelchair, smiling quietly, without the slightest flicker of emotion in his eyes.
The echoes slowly faded, and silence returned to the room. Sunlight streamed through the window, and fine dust drifted down through its beams to the sound of heavy breathing.
The pressure mounted in the silence. At that moment, Hatton felt that Xia Lun's calm gaze was even harder to bear than the iron rod that had shattered his skull and hooked into his frontal lobe!
He clenched his teeth and took a sudden step forward. "Kill me, you Evil Spirit! Bash my brains out with your Crowbar! Right here!"
Xia Lun's eyes shifted slightly, but his gaze remained undisturbed. He sat in the wheelchair like a statue.
He said nothing and did not even move, yet Hatton felt an overwhelming pressure. His outburst had landed like a blow against a wad of soft cotton, with no response at all.
Hatton clenched his fists and forced himself to keep staring into Xia Lun's eyes. Then he saw his own reflection in them.
His face was red, his expression fierce, but his eyes were wavering...
Did I... resent my own dream?
As Hatton stared at his reflection in Xia Lun's eyes, fear suddenly surged through him. He jerked his gaze away and instinctively backed up two steps.
Only then did Xia Lun finally speak.
"I'm glad you could reveal your real motive for killing." Xia Lun paused, then made a dry joke. "But I really didn't like you saying Bing Zi could 'talk big when he wasn't the one suffering.' Tumor can't even stand up, after all..."
Hatton froze at Xia