It was as if he were laughing. Simultaneously, a trembling voice emerged from his throat, "Useless..."
The fingernails on Liang Cheng's ten fingers began to slowly lengthen.
Fine. Show you a little something and you're ready to open your own dye house, are you?
They were all demon lords, all proud and arrogant beings. Did they truly believe they were the absolute, sole supreme? In any organization, ordinary employees, no matter how much they might outwardly flatter colleagues with connections to the leadership, invariably look down on them inwardly.
At this moment, the deep black in Zheng Fan's eyes began to fade, and his aura also suddenly trembled. Liang Cheng paused.
Again?
"A Cheng, I trust him," Zheng Fan said.
This time, it was Zheng Fan's voice.
Liang Cheng frowned slightly. The previous voice had indicated that Zheng Fan *could* have retaken control of his body, yet he had done nothing.
Trust him? Trust him with what?
