Murong Ye's words were brittle cold. His usual cold aura was now incisive and vivid. It was as threatening as the God of Death when He asked for one's life.

Instantly, the Head of Security found his forehead to be covered in sweat. His face turned as pale as a piece of paper and his legs became jelly. His heart was thumping like crazy, as if ten thousands of horses were galloping in it. His hands were trembling so much as if they were sifting chaff. He was so terrified, no ...