Wu Zi walked up to the gloating boy, seized his neck with a rough, broad hand. The boy wasn't short, about 1.78 meters, but Wu Zi lifted him up with one hand like a ragdoll.
Slap, slap...!
With the left hand holding the boy, Wu Zi struck with his right, his fan-like hand landing hard on the boy's mouth. After more than a dozen slaps, the boy's mouth was full of blood, his lips were flipped outwards, and he had lost two teeth.
Grasped by the neck, the boy struggled mid-air like a dying fish, groaning painfully from his throat.
Wu Zi let go, and the boy fell directly to the ground, clutching his neck, panting heavily, and coughed violently, spewing blood that stained the floor red.
Everyone was dumbfounded, especially the girls, who screamed in terror.
They were all students, although they often bullied others, it was the first time they'd seen such a brutal and terrifying scene, they trembled all over, their faces pale as paper.
Wu Zi retreated behind Dong Zhiping.
