Seeing Ying Wuqiu's actions, Tang Wanyuan panicked for a moment and cried out, "Wuqiu, what are you doing? He's your brother."
Ying Wuqiu didn't spare Tang Wanyuan a glance, his predatory gaze locked onto the object in Ye Que's hand.
"If he considers me his Big Brother, he should hand the item to me, not give it to someone else."
With those words, he fixed his eyes on Ye Que again, saying, "Ye Que, give me the item, or I really will shoot."
Truth be told, holding a gun against Ye Que's head like this, Ying Wuqiu felt both terrified and cowardly inside.
He was scared—scared that he might lose his mind, that in pursuit of that so-called object capable of ruling the entire nation, he might accidentally pull the trigger and kill his own brother.
No, he wasn't the type who would cruelly kill his sibling for the sake of power.
He wasn't that ruthless.
"If you truly shoot, I'll give you the item." Ye Que was gambling on him.
