The cry of alarm silenced everyone.
Full of rage, Weng Zhigang froze!
The group of men looking forward to seeing Weng Zhigang getting beat up froze as well.
A bunch of excited and boiling young ladies also froze.
All eyes were fixed on the table beneath Zhang Fan's fist.
When they saw the table, everyone's eyeballs bulged out.
The wooden tabletop looked as if it had been smashed by a meteor from the sky, shattered to pieces.
At the center, the spot where Zhang Fan's fist made contact, a hole the size of a head appeared conspicuously.
Radiating from the hole at the center, deep cracks spread in all directions like a spider web.
The metal legs of the table were bent out of shape, and the whole table had sunk more than ten centimeters.
Especially the legs of the table near Zhang Fan, which were tilted at a sixty-degree angle.
Seeing this scene, countless men gasped in shock.
Damn, is Zhang Fan such a beast, this fierce?
