Sure enough, after making a promise to Lei Wanche, Meng Zhao immediately turned his gaze to the others.
Ox-Head God, Horse-Face Ghost, Liu An, Yan Libing, and Shi Jiawen were either Grandmasters or outstanding young talents, each with their own origins and backing.
Few could gather them all in one net and bring every one of them under their command. Even Emperor Beitang Sheng, before whom Liu An and the other two bowed their heads in submission, might not necessarily have won the wholehearted support of Ox-Head God and Horse-Face Ghost.
What Meng Zhao wanted was not to subdue their bodies and hearts. He merely wanted them not to make trouble for him, to keep their mouths shut, and, when the time was right, to obey his orders and do what needed to be done. Nothing more.
Meng Zhao regarded the Divine Continent and its boundless lands as a chessboard, and the countless billions of common people and martial arts experts beneath heaven as chess pieces.
The chess pieces that belonged to him might not be numerous, occupying but a negligible fraction, but so long as they stood at crucial points, they could unleash earth-shaking influence.
"Everyone, what do you think? Do you still think highly enough of me, Meng Zhao, to be willing to be my friends?"
Meng Zhao still used the word "friends" to sum up their relationship. Before one's power and status reached a certain level, the distinction between superior and subordinate was, in truth, dispensable. At least, before it affected Meng Zhao's standing, influence, or control over his forces, there was no need to deliberately emphasize it.
The moment Meng Zhao finished speaking, Horse-Face Ghost and Yan Libing immediately responded. After all, they had spent longer with Meng Zhao and experienced more alongside him. They had