For such a person, no one felt a shred of pity; he deserved it, and he deserved to die. Only with his death could everyone else live better.
Next, Qingshui Cangjie gathered everyone again, teaching them what to say to maintain a consistent story.
Not long after, the sound of car horns erupted outside the hotel. Qingshui Cangjie stepped outside the hotel door, seeing two cars parked not far away, the scar-faced man who they had clashed with before stood outside with a team.
"Hasegawa Hideji, we're all acquaintances after all. We don't want to kill you, so we have no choice but to hand you over to them. You're on your own now." Qingshui Cangjie sighed theatrically, hands clasped behind his back.
This was an undeniably ruthless move; Qingshui Cangjie knew very well what fate awaited Hasegawa Hideji upon being handed over. It was killing with a borrowed knife.
He both wanted to kill and didn't want the reputation of murdering a teammate.
