The deacon's words left Leng Feng unable to bargain any further. He knew very well that if he continued, the other man might truly kill him.
"My lord, I cannot make this decision. I must return and report to our Chief first," Leng Feng said.
That was how the world worked: the weak were meat for the strong.
His Lone Mountain Gang rode roughshod over Lone Mountain Town, and all these miners were disciples of sects his gang had destroyed.
Yet his Lone Mountain Gang was insignificant before other powerful sects. At present, for instance, the gang depended on the Swift Sword Sect, paying tribute in vast amounts of money and treasures every year in exchange for its protection.
If, one day, they could no longer satisfy the Swift Sword Sect, his Lone Mountain Gang would probably be reduced to ruins at once. Even if its disciples were not killed, they would likely be imprisoned and put to all manner of hard labor.
"None of that concerns me. Three days. You have only three days. Once those three days are up, you will bear the consequences. Moreover, your surname is Leng too, so you should be close to Leng Liang. You should understand what is at stake," the deacon said.
"Leng Liang is my elder brother. I understand what is at stake. How should we contact you then, my lord?" Leng Feng asked.
The deacon turned and gestured to one of the middle-aged men beside him.
"Heh, we will naturally come to collect it in person when the time comes. You had better not think of playing any tricks. Otherwise..." The middle-aged man turned his palm over, and a small black token appeared in it. He waved it before Leng Feng's eyes, then put it away.
Although he had only