"Maybe before I turned eighteen, I really was a Young Master Dog, spending my days chasing girls and racing cars. Otherwise, how would I know about these things?"
Yang Fei muttered to himself, turning the corner of the second floor and suddenly colliding with a fat man.
At this moment, Yang Fei's body was exceptionally strong, not something an ordinary person could compare to.
The fat man let out a sound of surprise, stumbling back several steps, almost landing on the ground.
He felt as if he had run into an iron mountain, with his chest and stomach subtly aching.
The fat man immediately erupted in anger: "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"
The fat man's English was peppered with a strong Greenworth accent, but Yang Fei still understood.
He pulled out a business card and handed it to the fat man.
"My name is Jack Martin. Mr. Houston referred me here."
Yang Fei didn't know Houston.
