Enduring the excruciating pain of a comminuted fracture in his arm, the fat manager quickly dialed Lv Wenlong's number, quickly explained the situation below, and hung up the phone.
"Brother... The chairman is on his way, he's on his way, please let me go!"
He had already seen the undisguised chill in Ning Fan's eyes, feeling uneasy at heart, especially since Ning Fan had just single-handedly defeated a dozen security guards, the scene still vivid in his memory.
Always priding himself on being wise, he didn't want to provoke this "Martial World master" that came out of nowhere any further.
It wasn't long before the elevator doors on the right side of the lobby opened, and two muscular men in black suits, wearing sunglasses, made a gesture of invitation.
Behind them, Lv Wenlong walked slowly into the company lobby, a cigar in his mouth and a furrowed brow.
"What's going on?"
