"The old man finally left."

"Poetry has also left, now the organization is ours."

A man in camouflage holding a hammer as thick as a thigh, looking at the people around him, laughed and said, "Everyone has set off, we should be able to meet up with Poetry and the old man."

"Of course," Rose, dressed in a low-cut strapless dress and wrapped in a beautiful white fox fur, swaying a red wine glass in her hand, looked down at the man next to her. "Tonight, we should celebrate, ...