Inside the coffin shop.
An old man in his fifties or sixties, along with three young men, were bent over making coffins.
The tools in their hands planed the wood over and over, sending curls of sawdust flying.
"Would you like to place an order, sir, or take one now?"
Without raising his head, the old man spoke up.
"Where is Golden Feather Tower's headquarters?"
The moment Jiang Dao stepped inside, he asked coldly.
"Hm?"
The old man's movements paused. He raised his head and looked at Jiang Dao.
The other three young men also shifted their gazes toward him.
Not posting a job, yet asking for their headquarters right away—was this... someone looking for trouble?
"What do you mean, sir? This old man does not quite understand."
The old man narrowed his eyes as he spoke.
"I'll ask one more time. Where is Golden Feather Tower's headquarters?"
Jiang Dao said icily.
"Forgive this old man's poor hearing, but I have never heard that name."
The old man replied indifferently.
Whoosh!
Boom!
A muffled blast rang out, and a piercing gale swept through the room. It was as though a watermelon had exploded; a corpse flew straight out.
Jiang Dao had flashed before one of the young men like lightning and struck him with a palm, smashing him through the room. He had not even had time to cry out.
It had been far too fast!
No one had reacted to the attack.
Even the old man's heart lurched in shock.
He had never seen anyone strike so quickly in all his life.
"Y-you..."
His voice trembled.
"If you don't talk, I'll shave you alive, one cut at a time!"
Jiang Dao's tone was frigid.
The old man's expression changed. He hurriedly raised a hand toward his own forehead.
Knowing