Ou Chengtian frowned, irritated by the woman's noisy protest. "A murderer? Your son is dead?"
"Even if he's not dead, he's halfway there. If you're not a murderer, I don't know what you are."
Ou Chengtian found the woman's disjointed accusations somewhat amusing.
"Really? If I were really charged as a murderer, then I could indeed act the part and finish your son off. After all, if I'm already considered guilty, then your son's life isn't his own anymore." Ou Chengtian smirked maliciously, his cold, intimidating eyes made even Zhong Jie, who was used to high-pressure situations, draw in a sharp breath.
Tang Tian, who was standing nearby and had been watching, finally stepped forward to lend his wife some support, his sharp gaze fixed on Ou Chengtian.
He could tell that this young man was indeed formidable – just his disposition alone set him apart from ordinary people.
