Looking at the unpleasant expressions around him, Zhao Quan laughed heartily and said, "Now you realize, don't blame me for not cherishing old times. I give you two choices; hand over your powers, and I'll let you leave here alive. Otherwise, this day next year will be the anniversary of your death."
As Zhao Quan's words fell, five or six people immediately stood by Zhao Quan's side, each suddenly holding a handgun with the barrel aimed at Zhao Long and others, their eyes filled with a cold smile. It was obvious that they knew Zhao Quan would make a move today; otherwise, they wouldn't have brought weapons into the meeting hall since it's a customary rule to confiscate weapons before entering.
Seeing this, those standing beside Zhao Long looked even more dreadful. They wanted to resist, but their weapons had been taken upon entry. Now facing several handguns, they were completely helpless.
"Zhao Long, do you really think I, Zhao Quan, am a fool? You have lost this time."
