The owner of the Xin Yuan Club was Fang Yonglong, a cousin of Steward Fang, who held considerable sway in River City.
Thus, Lin Mu's remark had directly offended the entire Xin Yuan Club.
"What arrogance!"
The patrolling security guard scoffed and spoke into his walkie-talkie.
"Boys, we've got a troublemaker. Grab your weapons!"
Instantly, a cacophony of curses erupted from the device, and the atmosphere in the parking lot grew heavy.
"Elder Brother Mu, we..."
Liu Zijian was visibly nervous. He'd lived an honest life for many years, never getting involved in this sort of trouble, so his fear was understandable.
Lin Mu patted his shoulder. "Got a smoke? Give me one."
"Huh?" Liu Zijian was taken aback. "Elder Brother Mu, you don't smoke either."
But Liu Zijian still took out his pack, handed a cigarette to Lin Mu, and lit it for him.
Lin Mu took a deep drag and exhaled a perfect smoke ring. "Four minutes left," he said.
"COUGH, COUGH!"
