Deathly silence filled the communications cabin.
In the holographic projection, Sanger stood frozen, both hands pressed hard against the console, his knuckles white with strain. His gaze rested on Barn's corpse, and his face, which bore a seventy-percent resemblance to Farrow's, was twisted into something almost savage.
"Barn..."
His voice was hoarse, like gravel forced up from the depths of his throat.
An old subordinate who had followed him for decades, a Level 6 Liquid Metal Warrior, a powerful fighter supported by the Lotto Family, had died here just like that.
Blood still flowed, spreading along the grooves in the floor—a horrifying sight.
Suddenly, the void warped slightly.
A pale orange-gold figure stepped out of it.
It was none other than the Crimson Eye Sword Emperor.
He lowered his head to glance at the corpse on the floor. The vertical line on his faceplate trembled slightly as a beam of blue light scanned the scene.
"Chi Tong, what happened? Who killed Barn!"
"Where is Farrow?"
Sanger's voice seemed to squeeze out between his teeth, his expression so dark it looked ready to drip water. Despite his exalted position and formidable mental fortitude, he could barely maintain his basic composure, and his voice was already on the verge of erupting.
The light in Chi Tong's vertical eye vanished, and he looked at Sanger.
"Farrow is missing!"
His voice was low, carrying a metallic echo without the slightest fluctuation of emotion.
"Who was it!"
Sanger's voice was equally low, rumbling like muffled thunder. Even his skin trembled.
"Fang Mo!"
Chi Tong's answer was brief and certain.
"Fang Mo?"
Sanger's eyes suddenly widened in disbelief.
He knew who Fang Mo was. Farrow had lost to him and hated him enough to want to devour his flesh raw. But how could Fang Mo possibly