The lights flickered in the hall, shadows scattered to both sides in an instant, leaving Xiao Lin an open passage. They looked warily at this sudden stranger, weapons ready and aimed in Xiao Lin's direction without exception. At the forefront of this crowd sat a person on a vintage redwood chair—Xiao Lin's ultimate target for today, Wang Weibo!
"Impressive, impressive! You dare come alone to take me on, and you've already killed quite a few of my men. Do you know what kind of place this is?" Wang Weibo showed no fear toward the person before him. On the contrary, he remained in a good mood, legs crossed, right hand rhythmically tapping on the chair's armrest.
Xiao Lin's lips curled slightly under his mask. "What's so arrogant about the remnants of the Wang Family? You're merely a petty 'Dragon Subdue,' a nice name but weak in strength."
