A silver tongue was useless. In the end, strength would have to do the talking...
Hearing this, Fan Yuntang and the others were flooded with mixed emotions, as though a stifling pressure had lodged in their chests that they could not bear to leave unvented.
Yet they had nothing to say in reply.
They could only blame their encounter with a young expert like Fang Qianyuan, brimming with vigor and confidence. Rather than resolving matters through tact and harmony, he returned to the fundamental rule: the strong were supreme.
If they wanted a share of the spoils, could they possibly get around him?
"I understand..." Fan Yuntang stepped forward, his expression grave and his gaze cold. "Young Master Fang relies on his martial strength and holds us, the Great Sects of the World, and the various aristocratic clans in utter contempt!"
"That is not the case." Fang Qianyuan pondered for a moment. Just as everyone thought he might soften somewhat, he abruptly changed tack and sneered, "It is only you people I hold in contempt!"
Kang Long flew into a rage. "Such arrogance!"
Now that all pretense of civility had been torn away, Fang Qianyuan had nothing left to worry about. He knew that with immense profits before them, these people would not curb their greed merely because he was conciliatory. Conversely, faced with force, they would not act blindly on impulse merely because he was overbearing.
Several of them stepped back without betraying their intentions. They appeared to be retreating for the moment, but in fact, they had already spread out and laid a net. All they needed was someone to take the lead and give the order, and they would move to seize the treasure.
Of course, they did not expect to keep the treasure entirely for themselves.