Inside the black Maserati, a voice cold with authority echoed.
The old servant immediately got out of the car, respectfully opened the door, and gestured invitingly.
Tang Ling didn't even spare him a glance, indifferently settling into the rear seat.
Bang—the door shut with a heavy sound.
In the dark, the projected faces of the Saints looked extremely grim.
Nie Feng and Wang Taisheng, the administrative officials, suddenly felt like nothing more than Jokers.
Because the President had shown no intention of holding anyone accountable!
All eyes turned to the blood-soaked young man, and the nearly unconscious Councilman he dragged along with him.
No one knew what to do next.
Tang Ling being protected didn't come as a tremendous surprise.
But when people looked at the bloodied young man under the lights, their expressions became profoundly complex.
This was no longer the Black Cloud City of old.
Gu Jianlin was no longer the boy who had once stood alone.
