On the second floor of the club, visibility was poor due to the dim lighting. However, this posed no problem for Lin Mu. With a slight narrowing of his eyes, the entire scene on the second floor came into view. Immediately, an undisguised killing intent swept through the club.
In the middle of the second floor stood a chair. From the ceiling, a rope dangled over it. A figure with bound hands was suspended in mid-air, her tiptoes barely able to touch the chair.
Qin Luoli! My wife. My woman!
"Lin Mu, I admit I underestimated you," Fang Yonglong's voice boomed, amplified through a loudspeaker. "But with so many dead because of you, do you really think the Martial Alliance will let you off?"
Fang Yonglong seemed to be watching from somewhere, his voice a strange mix of faint fear and excitement.
