A dead silence.
The crowd's expressions were inscrutable, their bodies tense, not uttering a word.
Don't be fooled by Bai Chuwei's gentle facade; this is an unmistakable threat.
If anyone dares to vote recklessly, they might not walk out of the Golden Hall today. There isn't even a surveillance camera here, and dying would be in vain.
Underneath lies Mount Everest; one kick down, buried there, not even the police could climb up to advocate for them, saving on a burial plot.
This isn't offering them a choice; it's a single-choice question.
Maybe it's because the Golden Hall is set atop the peak of Mount Everest, the world's pinnacle, everyone feels there's a cold wind, a chilling air inside the hall.
The old Clan Leaders of the Eastern Clans remain calm, as Bai Chuwei's threat doesn't differ from the votes they initially intended to cast.
However, the Western Clan Leaders, led by Edward from the Blood Clan, look ashen-faced, breathless.
