Lu Xiangtian's expression became more and more unsightly. He subconsciously tightened his grip on the pistol. Finally, he coldly replied Lu Sizheng, "If I commit suicide, who knows if you won't hurt her?"
Lu Sizheng smiled. "Lu Xiangtian, don't get it wrong. The initiative is in my hands now. If you commit suicide, she might have a chance of survival. If you don't commit suicide..."
Lu Sizheng's pistol moved slightly upward and pressed against the back of Zhao Youlin's head. The meaning was self-evident.
Seeing this, Lu Xiangtian finally seemed to have made up his mind. He raised the gun and pointed it at his head.
Zhao Youlin's eyes narrowed when she saw this scene.
Meanwhile, Mu Tingfeng, who was at a disadvantage because of his injury, had crawled to the other side and reached for the pistol closest to him.
