Lu Bai didn't bother hiding his intentions. He openly scanned the deathmatchers mingling in the crowd.
The places where the big shots gathered naturally drew everyone's attention. Lu Bai's actions didn't escape the notice of the deathmatchers around him.
In that instant, every deathmatcher present realized what Lu Bai was planning.
Those with good instincts immediately turned and ran, afraid that if they waited any longer, they wouldn't get away.
But a considerable number of deathmatchers still clung to a little hope.
They bet that Lu Bai wasn't much stronger than them, and that maybe he'd landed the Spokesperson position through sheer luck.
It wasn't that they were simply too stubborn to turn back until they hit a wall.
For one thing, running away in front of all those Weidao students would mean that the past week or so had been a waste of time, and they'd completely offended the people of Weidao High School.
For another, they figured that since they were technically members of Weidao High School now, the leaders and officers of its various factions wouldn't just stand by and watch them get killed.
But that was all wishful thinking.
Lu Bai had none of those qualms.
He picked out a direction where a host of titles floated and charged straight toward it.
"Get back here! Do you think I'm not even here?"
Simba glared furiously. He stamped down and launched himself toward Lu Bai, propelled by the recoil from the ground.
But barely two meters after he left the ground, an elderly hand appeared on each of his shoulders.
Both hands pressed down at once, forcing him back to the ground.
Even after making Simba land, Dao Zhengmu kept his hand on Simba's shoulder. "You can't act like the two of us old men aren't here,