More and more people gathered in the spacious memorial hall. Besides Yan Hao, there were a few other familiar faces.
"So it has come to this, after all."
Gong Shouzhuo sighed as he looked at the massive coffins behind the altar.
He had long anticipated such a situation. Challenging all the world's sects was bound to result in bloodshed and gore, but Zhou Yuanjue had been far more ruthless than he had ever imagined.
In another corner of the hall, Luo Yongli, the chairman of the Tianji Group, sat in a wheelchair wearing sunglasses, his legs wrapped in bandages. Tall bodyguards surrounded him. No emotion could be read on his face, but the hand resting on his wheelchair seemed to be trembling slightly.
Suddenly, a commotion stirred the crowd, and the sound of hushed whispers came from outside the main entrance.
Everyone craned their necks to look out the club's entrance, where a black sedan had stopped not far from the gate.
