The whole operation had taken less than five minutes.
Wang Xiaoqiang and everyone else still capable of resisting had been dealt with by Yang Jian.
If Wang Xiaoqiang had not released the ghost inside his body, forcing Yang Jian to shift positions and temporarily keep his distance, they would have died even faster.
A Ghost Domain had little effect on ghosts, but against people, it was exceptionally effective.
"All the people who deserved to die are dead. Now it's your turn. No need to hide under the table. This conference table doesn't actually exist." Yang Jian walked over.
His body passed through the conference table as he slowly approached.
The enormous table gradually vanished. Once it had completely disappeared, four or five business executives in suits—well-known wealthy figures in Dachang City—were revealed trembling on the floor.
"You're all people of status. Aren't you going to say something? It's fine if you don't. I can send you on your way just like this." Yang Jian pointed a handgun at one of the executives.
"Don't, don't shoot! We're just ordinary people. There's nothing in it for you if you kill us," the wealthy businessman stammered urgently.
"But there's no downside either," Yang Jian said.
"Let me go, and I'll give you three hundred million. What do you say?" Another executive spoke up, his face full of pleading as he tried to buy his life with money.
Yang Jian glanced at him. The red light around them flickered, and the executive instantly vanished from where he stood. The next moment, he appeared ten meters underground and was buried alive.
"This isn't about money. No matter how rich you are, you still have to die. The richer people like you are, the more dangerous you become. Who knows whether you'll put out a bounty