"Hello?"
"Save it. Your son is in my hands."
Inside the private room.
Old Ninth held a cigarette between his teeth, bouncing his leg with an arrogant look on his face.
"Ahem."
The manager hurriedly cleared his throat, wanting to remind his boss that they had not gone to war with Old Ninth yet.
Instead, Old Ninth raised an eyebrow, seeing right through his thoughts.
"I came here myself. Where could your son possibly run? You think grabbing him would be hard? Believe me when I say I could go upstairs and slaughter him right now!"
Old Ninth shouted into the phone.
Had anyone else made that threat, the Chamber of Commerce bosses might not have cared.
But when it was Old Ninth, anyone would have to think twice.
No one could predict a madman's thoughts.
"You don't intend to leave?" An Zuo demanded fiercely, breathing hard.
"You think you could stop me if I wanted to?" Old Ninth laughed disdainfully. "Don't threaten me, old man. When it comes to ruthless methods, I'm worse than you."
An Zuo fell silent for a long time before finally getting down to business.
"What do you want?"
"My boss wanted to see you, but every fucking one of you was either sick or busy. Refusing to show him any respect, huh? Then we'll settle this by Chun Prefecture rules. Either kneel and apologize to my boss right now, or round up your men and come fight me."
With that said.
Old Ninth raised his wrist and glanced at his watch.
"You've got half an hour. If you haven't made a move by then, get ready to bury your son."
Old Ninth gave a sinister smile, his gaze drifting casually toward the doorway.
He happened to see a beautiful figure flash past the door.