City of Injustice.
The top floor of Night Dome Crown, the private room named Cloud Peak.
The heavy soundproof materials still dutifully isolated the city's clamor.
But at this moment, the air inside the room was more oppressive than last time.
Beside the massive circular bar table.
Seven figures sat in silent assembly.
The old man of Lingxiao Association, Ghost Elder, absentmindedly stroked the smooth and warm rosewood tabletop with his frail fingers, a thin layer of cold sweat on his forehead faintly reflecting the cold light.
The other six.
Their faces were devoid of the brisk and shrewdness from their last collaboration.
A fortnight!
A whole fortnight!
They poured all gang strength, assembled elites, like seven huge wedges, firmly nailed to the perimeter of the core area occupied by the Celestial Punishment Association.
Small-scale skirmishes never ceased.
Blood soaked the stone slabs of alleys and streets.
