A real killer playing a villain; the guy surnamed Zhen in Detective, run!

Lu Yuan swayed slightly, and the bodyguard missed his target.

The bodyguard's hand brushed against the air, his arm encircling the back of the chair.

Lu Yuan was no longer in his original position.

He cut into the narrow gap between the two, pressed down with his shoulder, and shifted his foot half a step, thus breaking through the blockade.

The bodyguard turned around, but Lu Yuan was already gone.

No one saw how he crossed half the long table.

By the time Mr. Wang realized what was happening, a wooden chopstick was already pressed against the side of his neck.

Another chopstick was hanging in front of his right eye.

His eyelashes could touch the tip of a chopstick with the slightest movement.

Mr. Wang was completely pinned to the chair.

I'm half sober now.

"Are you crazy?"

Mr. Wang's teeth chattered. "Do you know who I am? If you dare touch me, I'll make sure you never work in this industry again!"

Lu Yuan looked at the layer of fat on President Wang's neck as if he were evaluating a piece of meat that was not up to standard.

"If the common carotid artery ruptures, blood will spray up to about 1.5 meters high."

"In the first three seconds, the brain's oxygen supply was cut off."

"About ten seconds, shock."

"The window for emergency treatment is very short. The restaurant is a nine-minute walk from the nearest top-tier hospital, according to navigation. During rush hour, it takes at least fourteen minutes."

General Manager Wang was sweating profusely.

"You...you're trying to scare me?"

Lu Yuan moved the tip of his chopsticks forward half a millimeter.

The skin was broken, and blood was gushing out from the side of my neck.

Lu Yuan asked, "How about we take a gamble and see if this piece of wood can get through your thick layer of fat?"

There were no other sounds in the private room.

Liang Bo's palms were sweaty.

He has met many ruthless people.

At the capitalist table, it's not uncommon to bang on the table, smash cups, or utter harsh words.

But Lu Yuan was different. Liang Bo believed that the chopstick would really go in the way he described.

Zhou Yue swallowed hard and pressed his back against the chair.

He suddenly remembered the project biography of "The Faceless".

A seemingly gentle and harmless criminal psychologist, but the mastermind behind it all.

They had previously been discussing whether Lu Yuan was a good fit for the role.

There's no need to discuss this now.

The moment this person stands there, the script itself has to take two steps back.

Mr. Wang finally smelled the scent of death.

Sweat rolled down his temples, his breathing became erratic, and the flesh on his stomach jiggled!

A spasm ran through his lower body, and warm liquid trickled down his trousers, dripping onto the handmade carpet.

The smell quickly spread, and Sister Hong covered her mouth.

"Teacher Lu!" Zhou Yue finally came to his senses, his throat dry.

"Let's talk this out. Mr. Wang had too much to drink earlier. We're all here for the project—"

"Shut up."

Two words were uttered.

Zhou Yue swallowed the rest of his sentence.

The two bodyguards snapped out of their daze and tried to rush forward to rescue the person.

But they only took half a step before stopping.

Lu Yuan's positioning was too professional.

Use chopsticks to press against the artery, and use the other hand to control the eye position.

His feet were still on the outside of Mr. Wang's chair leg; if the bodyguard rushed forward, Mr. Wang would be the first to fall.

Mr. Wang's lips trembled violently, and his voice, strained from his throat, was sticky and reeked of alcohol.

"Teacher Lu...it's a misunderstanding..."

The tip of the chopsticks was still pressed against his eyes, and he dared not blink.

If you press your eyelid down even a little, the splinter will touch your eyelashes.

"I'm drunk, I have a foul mouth, I'm not human."

Mr. Wang swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, and the chopstick on the side of his neck pressed against him.

He almost burst into tears.

"No...don't do it. Please, I really beg you."

No one at the table dared to laugh.

Hong Jie sat next to Lin Wanwan, and the hand that had been pressing down on her just now had been pulled back under her skirt.

Liang Bo looked down at his wine glass, his fingers resting on the rim of the glass, and didn't change his position for a long time.

Zhou Yue fared even worse.

He was just thinking about how to smooth things over, but now he just wants to get himself out of the private room.

What are the most feared old foxes in the industry?

He's not a reckless man. A reckless man has a temper, flaws, and a price.

What I fear most is someone like Lu Yuan!

One second they're peeling crabs with their heads down, the next they're shoving them into a death trap!

Lu Yuan lowered his eyes, looking at President Wang, who was making a complete fool of himself.

How boring! Many people were like this before they died in their past lives.

No matter how big the bookmaker, how ruthless the broker, or how shrewd the arms dealer, when a knife is pressed against their throat, they all say pretty much the same thing.

Beg for mercy, admit your mistakes, talk about money, and then urinate all over the place.

These people are very incapable of innovation in this area.

Lu Yuan shifted his gaze downwards, his eyes landing on his trouser leg.

On the dark gray trousers, the drop of soy sauce had spread and turned into a small circle.

It's very eye-catching!

This is a dress that Su Qinghan bought for 186,000 yuan.

Lu Yuan fell silent!

So everyone in the private room fell silent!

Mr. Wang was so frightened by the silence that he almost lost his mind!

"Teacher Lu... I'll pay! I'll pay for it!"

"How much were the clothes? I'll pay for them! Teacher Lu, whatever you say is fine!"

Lu Yuan frowned.

"Who told you to pay for the clothes?"

Mr. Wang was stunned.

Lu Yuan said, "It's not broken. It can be washed."

"You'll pay for the dry cleaning!"

Mr. Wang swallowed hard: "Okay, okay, I'll cover the dry cleaning fee. I'll have someone transfer the money right now!"

The bodyguard quickly ran over to transfer the money.

Lu Yuan turned his head to look at Lin Wanwan.

Lin Wanwan was still sitting in the chair.

The dress strap was askew, her wrist was scratched red, and all the color had drained from her face.

She remained silent, her throat blocked.

In those few minutes, the people at the table taught her one thing: her grievances, fears, and resistance were all worthless in their eyes.

The moment Lu Yuan glanced at her, the danger emanating from him vanished.

"Aren't you leaving yet?"

Lin Wanwan looked up.

Lu Yuan asked, "Should we wait for them to order more dishes?"

Lin Wanwan felt a soreness in her nose.

She didn't want to cry in front of these people, but after holding back for so long, the tears still fell.

One after another, they hit the surface of the dress, quickly spreading into small spots.

She stood up, holding onto the back of the chair; her legs felt a little weak.

Lu Yuan stepped aside, clearing the way to the door.

This action is more effective than any comforting gesture.

Lin Wanwan nodded. "Let's go."

Sister Hong finally realized what was happening.

She sat up halfway and reached out to grab Lin Wanwan's arm.

"Wanwan, you can't—"

Lu Yuan turned his head and glanced at her.

Sister Hong's hand froze in mid-air.

Having been in the industry for so many years, she has seen ruthless characters and lunatics.

Lu Yuan's eyes held no threat, no anger, and not even any extra expression.

He was just staring at her, like he was checking whether an item should be disposed of.

Hongjie's throat tightened, and she swallowed the rest of her sentence.

She put her hands back on her lap and sat much more properly than when she first entered the private room.

Lin Wanwan walked past her.

Liang Bo placed his phone face down on the table.

Zhou Yue picked up his teacup, then put it down again.

Neither of them spoke.

They are very clear-headed.

Lu Yuan is neither the "god of death" described in trending search articles, nor the "aura" hyped up by fans.

Liang Bo felt a dampness on his back, and a thought flashed through his mind.

This person is not an actor!

If this guy hasn't had any history of wrongdoing, Liang Bo will read the platform's annual reports backwards from now on.

The dozen or so people at the table watched as Lu Yuan led Lin Wanwan toward the door.

No one dared to move, no one dared to stop them.

Just then, the door to the private room was pushed open.

Su Qinghan came in with her phone.