The guys of the Bloody Hand Gang were fine with the order, but the Fiery Lion Gang felt that He Xing had gone too far.
A guy around twenty-five or twenty-six years old with a giant sword on his back that was as long as his height came up to He Xing. He looked aghast.
"He Xing, it's not a clever move. If others know what happened here, the Jiangs will definitely resist desperately."
"Meng Ding, how dare you call my name directly? You think you are on par with me, the vice leader of the Bloody Hand Gang, just because your father is the leader of the Fiery Lion Gang?"
He Xing didn't listen to him. Instead, he was staring at Meng Ding ferociously.
"No, no, Leader He." Meng Ding was startled by him.
"Ha, that's fine. Don't worry. The Jiangs don't have any other options." He Xing burst into laughter.
"Really?"
A cold voice suddenly interrupted He Xing's laugh.
The others were astonished. They were curious to see who had the nerve to talk back to He Xing.
"Come out!"