But now, Tang Zhetian had been defeated, defeated by a young man only twenty-five years old. Such a thing feels as absurd as a dream. Yet as absurd as it was, it was reality.
Yang Qi walked toward the Spirit Car, dragged a coffin down from it, then grabbed Tang Zhetian and shoved him straight inside. Tang Zhetian was not yet dead, but he was already crippled. He wanted to resist but was utterly powerless to do so—a truly suffocating feeling.
"I told you, this Spirit Car was prepared for you," Yang Qi said indifferently, looking down at Tang Zhetian. "It's a 100,000-yuan coffin. The quality isn't bad, right? You can enjoy it in peace. Tell me, why couldn't you just stay in Sea City instead of repeatedly opposing me? How does it feel to end up like this?"
