The answer was far too easy to guess:
Underground construction consumed enormous amounts of manpower and resources. Even corporations had to think twice about it.
Did the Afterlife Nightclub make money? It certainly did-enough for Rog to rake in a fortune, buy a supercar with fewer than ten made worldwide, live in Night City's most luxurious villa, and enjoy the world's finest wines.
But underground construction was another matter entirely. It simply was not something he could afford, and the Afterlife had no need to expand downward.
Whether as the former Heir Apparent of Prince Zhuang or as the Regent who now held power, he was still at the stage where "a person was worth less than an object."
The man named Yequ wore a crimson robe, a pure red as vivid as blood.
She tried to cover her ears, but someone held both her hands immobile. She could only let those merciless, curse-like words bore straight through her ears into her heart like knives.
Shui Yiren twitched her nose, watching Qin Feng's expression as she gave her instructions. Yet Qin Feng looked utterly fearless, without the slightest sign of reluctance, and nodded in agreement without a second thought.
What should I do? Ji Shu thought numbly, then began staring blankly at the corpse in his arms.
Even though she wore an attendant's clothes and her beautiful long golden hair was hidden beneath a hat, everyone present sucked in a sharp breath when Annie Wei raised her head.
In the carriage that day, Shui Yiren had deliberately said certain things loudly for Manwu to hear. She knew that once Manwu learned Qin Feng was ill, she would naturally fetch medicine for him. As for tonight, that had naturally been her arrangement too. She had only wanted to needle Qin Feng,