A Desperate Fight to the Death? You Think You're Worthy?

Tables, chairs, cups, and plates shattered into pieces all over the floor. The guests sitting closest screamed in terror, scrambling backward on their hands and knees to squeeze into a tight cluster in the corner.

"How can you be so utterly tyrannical?! Do you really intend to fight the South River Noble Family to the bitter end?!"

Liu Wuxin's hair and beard stood on end, his eyes bloodshot as he stared fixedly at Lin Ming. His sixth-tier pressure bore down on Lin Ming without the slightest reservation.

"Although Li Wanjun was in the wrong, his offense didn't warrant death! How dare you abuse your authority and commit murder in public! Do you truly believe that with the Peak Martial Arts Hall at your back, you can do whatever you please and hold us in contempt?!"

"A fight to the bitter end?" Lin Ming raised a brow slightly, as if he had heard something exceptionally laughable. The mocking curve at the corner of his mouth grew increasingly pronounced, yet his gaze remained as cold as ten-thousand-year-old glacial ice.

He leaned on the still-dripping Asura Spear with one hand, sweeping a calm gaze past Liu Wuxin and then past Su Zhenghao, Chen Haidong, and the others, who had been terrified moments before.

Under Liu Wuxin's coercion, a glimmer of hope and shared hatred flickered back to life in their eyes. Lin Ming slowly spoke, his voice not loud, yet carrying an indifference and... contempt that chilled people to the bone.

"I think you lot are truly drunk."

He paused, speaking clearly word by word:

"You people..."

"Are you even worthy?"

The two words—are you worthy—struck like a pair of invisible slaps across Liu Wuxin and the others' faces. It burned their cheeks with pain and instantly shattered the righteous, self-righteous sense of