Sean Lockwood clenched his fists.
His eyes burned with hatred.
'Just who is targeting me?'
No matter who it was, this was a grudge he would never forgive.
He swore he would one day make that person suffer a fate worse than death.
His face was now twisted with extreme rage, a far cry from the noble and serene man who had once played the zither beneath the maple trees.
Just then, someone passed by them.
Seeing Jocelyn Grant and Sean, the passerby couldn't help but cover their face in disgust.
"Where did these beggars come from?"
"Absolutely filthy."
Hearing this, Sean Lockwood was on the verge of a breakdown.
"What nonsense are you spouting? I'm..."
He wanted to say he was the Little Martial Uncle of the Primal Heaven Sect, but the words died on his lips.
