Outside the city.
In the Overlord Stronghold camp.
Zuo Ju knelt on the ground like a child who had done something wrong.
Overlord said nothing, smoking his cigar.
Beside him, Hu Du, Er Pang, Black Raccoon, and Duan Ka also hung their heads, not daring to breathe loudly.
When Overlord was angry, only Old Ninth dared to speak without a care for his life.
"Ahem."
Perhaps finding the atmosphere too oppressive, Zuo Ju cast his brothers a pleading look, his face miserable.
The others all turned away, signaling that they could do nothing.
There was nothing wrong with Zuo Ju setting up a scheme, but he had kept even Dad in the dark. A beating would have been getting off lightly.
"Don't look at them."
Overlord grunted and rubbed his still-unhealed waist. "That fucking stab you gave me still aches."
To convince Yang Pan, the blade had truly gone into him.
If White Garment had not been there, Overlord really might have been in danger.
The peril involved was easy to imagine.
Knowing he was in the wrong, Zuo Ju put on a shameless smile. "I knew what I was doing. Ghost Thorn might be powerful, but its poison couldn't possibly kill you, Dad."
"Exactly. Dad is the strongest at eight awakenings," Duan Ka flattered him with an ingratiating smile. "Old Fourth might be... uh... guilty of outrageous disrespect, but he's still your son. Even a tiger doesn't eat its cubs. Spare him."
"Right, the father can't hurt the son, but the son can fucking stab his father."
Overlord rose irritably, pointing at Zuo Ju's nose as he cursed. "Just fucking look at the sons I've raised. You couldn't beat a fart out of Big Brother with a club, Old Second is heavier than a pig, and Old Third steals