Downstairs, the chairman's three bodyguards burst through the training center's gate. The old gatekeeper chased after them, saying, "Sirs, who are you looking for? You can register at the entrance before going in. There's no need to barge in so recklessly, is there?"
The lead bodyguard, wearing sunglasses, looked at the old gatekeeper with contempt. "Get that filthy Zhao Rong out here."
Hearing the sunglass-wearing bodyguard's arrogant words, calling the training center's own Zhao Rong 'filthy,' the old gatekeeper immediately retorted, "Sir, you shouldn't be so blind to the truth. Zhao Rong isn't just a prominent figure at our training center; he's our most respected young hero."
A bodyguard in a suit, trailing behind the leader, laughed aloud. "That ugly, short runt who looks like he's begging for a beating is your prominent figure and young hero? That's hilarious. I suppose all the other prominent figures and heroes in your training center must be dead, huh?"
