After subduing Song Baoshi, Lin Yifan began to tally up the score.
"You just struck me, a flat rate, one billion for mental distress damages."
"One billion! Why don't you just go rob someone?" Song Baoshi resisted, questioned, and was extremely reluctant to accept Lin Yifan's demand for compensation.
One billion was a significant amount of wealth to him; he would have to earn for several months, or even a year to make it back, so he would never agree to Lin Yifan's compensation.
"Think it's too much, huh? Think it's too much and you can settle the debt with your head on your neck!" Lin Yifan retorted, expressionless.
"You're oppressing the public; be careful of divine retribution!" Song Baoshi threatened.
"Do you, a rich young master home worth tens of billions, consider yourself an ordinary commoner? Let me tell you, I am oppressing the powerful, and the heavens will surely be grateful to me," Lin Yifan countered.
"Fine!"
