At the beginning, there was a dull thunderclap.
Since the morning, the ominous clouds shrouding the entire Gray Port were gradually darkening, like a leaden plate, pressing heavily on everyone's hearts, making it hard to breathe.
In the stifling heat, even if you open the window, the air that blows in is sticky and humid, giving the feeling that one is like mold spreading in a crevice.
The ceiling fan spins, stirring the air, while the television in the room continues to broadcast news about the Seven Cities being attacked by an unknown assailant…
"Ha, it's Brother Zong!"
On the huge leather sofa, the man chewing gum laughed heartily, pointing at the flames emerging from the thick fog, "It must be Brother Zong's handiwork!"
Look at what I said? As soon as Sixth Master makes a move, Ling Shuo, that traitor, will immediately die without a grave… A few days later at the celebration banquet, everyone can get a red envelope again!
Hey, Sinker, hey, are you listening?"
