Silence spread through the luxurious private room.
The old ghost's haggard body trembled slightly.
Cold sweat gathered into beads at the corner of his forehead, sliding down his slack cheeks and dripping onto the smooth mahogany table, making a faint yet heart-stirring "tap" sound.
He looked at the young man seated in the main position, who appeared calm to the point of indifference.
In those deep eyes, containing the swirling starry rivers, there was not a ripple.
Only a chilling calmness that reached the marrow.
From the beginning...
The old ghost's cloudy pupils reflected Fang Qingyu's young but sharp profile.
From the start, this young man, who rose like a comet, never had any fondness for those powers entrenched in the City of Injustice, profiting in the dark.
The so-called cooperation, the so-called mutual interests.
Were merely barriers he used to gain half a month's precious time through the manpower and influence of the seven major forces.
