Gang leader Ban Yang put down the phone, leaned back in his boss chair, and put his legs up on the desk, letting the buxom secretary beside him light his cigar.
He exhaled smoke and smiled with contempt, his facial scar twitching: "Franco, that trash, handed over the Philosopher's Stone so quickly, he's such a coward. How is he supposed to serve the Goddess without any spirit of sacrifice?"
"If he wants to fight, let him fight. It's broad daylight, so many people are watching, he wouldn't dare beat you to death!"
After speaking, a sneer followed.
Ban Yang bit on his cigar and pulled out a drawer, slamming a handgun onto the table, and said to the secretary, "Tell everyone to be alert. The target is a brainy brute. As long as the other side makes a move, I'll allow them to open fire. As long as there's no loss of life, I'll take full responsibility."
"Ban Yang, is this really okay?" the buxom secretary asked softly.
"What do you mean?"