Game

As the man's hoarse, indifferent voice echoed through the room, the Withering Nobles all stiffened, their expressions grave, not daring to make any rash move.

As a secret society devoted to "Twin Kites" and its apostles, with the collection of secrets as its purpose, how could they fail to recognize the identity of this suddenly appearing man?

"Mr. Gilan Iros, the Mad Owl King..."

The slick-haired young man at the lead composed himself, forced down his unease, and hurriedly placed a hand over his chest and bowed.

"Our deepest apologies. We did not know these secret transmissions belonged to you. Attempting to meddle with them was truly a sin. Please forgive us!"

His attitude was exceedingly humble. He promptly admitted defeat, his tone quite sincere.

The Mad King silently watched the six or seven noblemen and women without speaking, and the scene fell into dead silence.

The slick-haired young man remained bowed. With no response from the other party, he truly did not dare straighten up.

Cold sweat seeped from his forehead.

His heart was likewise filled with indescribable terror.

The Withering Nobles possessed an extremely well-developed intelligence network and knew quite a bit about this forcefully rising Foreign Minister of the Empire.

Gilan Iros, only twenty-one years old, had climbed from an obscure ordinary man to the pinnacle of Imperial power in barely a year, becoming a powerhouse standing at the apex of the mysterious realm.

His battle that made his name had been the Six-Party Wager Duel, where he represented the secret cult Midnight Rose. By himself, he eliminated a total of six Tier 5 Long-Lived Ones from three major secret societies and claimed victory.

Then, at the final moment, in a shocking knightly stance, he raised a train hammer and smashed apart the images of self and