Ten minutes later, Mohist put down the phone.
As Miao Qingyu adjusted to her new prosthetic body, she asked, "What did that perverted femboy say?"
"Nothing much. The usual things villains say. Like how everything before was a misunderstanding, how it didn't matter if certain people followed me or you, how after killing the chairman, we could take turns ruling this place and making money. That sort of bullshit."
"He still doesn't know he's about to die?" Miao Qingyu said with a cold sneer.
"Too arrogant," Electric Scooter said. "But the more someone is like that, the uglier they look before they die."
Corpse Collector stared at a magical artifact beside him. "The lieutenant's Primordial Spirit is flying over. Looks like the lieutenant has been exposed."
"Yeah. Prepare a better body for him."
Looking around, Mohist realized that a group of people had gathered here at some point.
There were Fangshan teachers among them, as well as Fangshan workers.
Some were parents of children; some were children of parents.
They were representatives of countless small groups. They represented ordinary people extorted by gangs, homeless people who froze to death on the streets, and ordinary people who had done nothing yet had all their wealth plundered.
They were Fangshan's roots, constantly supplying nourishment to those above, year after year, generation after generation.
Only the soil had not changed, nor had the roots. The lords above had changed again and again, yet they still demanded nourishment from them.
But today, they were angry.
The vast root system had finally found its taproot today. All their anger finally had an outlet, allowing them to wait for the right moment.
Looking at these people, Mohist saw both anger and reason in their eyes.
They knew why they were angry, and they knew why they