Bang!
A person flew out of Lounge No. 12, crashing through its door, rolling across the floor several times, and finally slamming into a wall before coming to a stop.
Gao Zhiqiang's body was twisted into a grotesque shape, the bones in his chest deeply caved in. Blood filled his mouth and nose.
His expression was twisted with pain, and he was on the verge of passing out.
Yet some strange power within his body sustained his life, preventing him from dying despite such severe injuries.
"What happened?"
The tremendous commotion drew the attention of nearby staff.
Soon, an alarm sounded throughout the rest area.
"You like playing around, don't you? What's so fun about women? Why not play with me instead? There are far more things two men can do together than you can imagine. I guarantee you won't be disappointed." A low, cold voice rang out as Yang Jian slowly walked out of the lounge.
"You're a madman too."
Gao Zhiqiang's face twisted viciously. "You attacked me over a few unrelated ordinary people. Was it worth it? For people like us, forget bullying a few women—even killing a few people wouldn't leave the slightest psychological burden. I was originally going to have a proper talk with you and pretend none of this had happened. Don't push your luck."
As he lay on the ground, his body continued to writhe. The injury Yang Jian had inflicted with that kick was recovering in an unimaginable way.
After twisting a few times, his broken bones actually fused back together. The blood covering his face gradually vanished before the naked eye, while his sunken chest swelled back up like an inflating balloon. In barely a dozen seconds, his body had returned to its previous state.
This was more than simply healing injuries.