Milo Adler shivered as a chill ran down his spine.
He was accustomed to throwing his weight around, and just earlier he had shouted instinctively. Now he suddenly remembered, this was the Aethelgard Auction House, and Willis Dooley was from Aethelgard Divine Palace. Even if they killed him, the Zenith Sword Sect wouldn't dare make a peep.
Thinking about this, Milo Adler stood there stiffly, trembling with cold sweat.
"Elder, elder, I was wrong. Just now, I was too anxious. I hope you won't take offense!"
Milo exclaimed in a hurry, his face full of pleading.
"Get back to your room!"
Willis shouted.
Milo Adler, as if granted amnesty, quickly returned to VIP Room No. 3.
"Damn it, damn it!"
After returning to the VIP room, Milo let out a low growl, his eyes flashing with icy murderous intent.
He had made a fool of himself just now, and would surely become a laughingstock, all thanks to Marshall Morgan.
