Drops of fresh blood spattered the ground. The blood in the rain did not wash away; instead, drawn together by some strange force, it formed a line of large characters in the puddles—Want information? One billion gold coins! Want safety? Five hundred million gold coins! Unlucky children, you have offended someone you should never have provoked!
A few breaths later, Ximen Feng, clad in tight black leather beneath a cloak, arrived in the alley with a large group of men.
They swiftly circled the area, but found nothing at all. In the end, they could only return to the Golden Mountain Hotel in frustration, bringing the three injured men with them.
Mr. Mo, with his kindly features and scholarly bearing, greeted Ximen Feng in the lobby of the Golden Mountain Hotel. Carrying a trace of the eerie aura inherited from the Fallen God Temple, Mr. Mo gave Ximen Feng a cryptic smile.
"Miss Ximen, it seems you have run into a little trouble? Mm, we specialize in solving any trouble our esteemed guests may have! Naturally, our fees are high, but please believe us—every expense is worth it. We are worth the price!" Mr. Mo spoke softly, his smile exceptionally radiant, as radiant as that of a thoroughly decent gentleman.
Ximen Feng eyed Mr. Mo suspiciously. After a long while, she finally shook her head. "I won't trust any stranger!"
The moment she said that, Mr. Mo gave Ximen Feng a clear assessment in his heart—she was a complete and utter rookie! Poor girl, how had she managed to provoke Lin Qi, someone more terrifying than a demon, more vicious than an evil ghost, lazier and more shameless than every thug and scoundrel alive, and with ten times more twists and turns in his gut than all conspirators put together?