"Sima is dead?"
In a gloomy alley in Beijing,
Lei Long, with a sullen face, was holding a phone, while standing next to him, still with that same bruised purple face, was Ghost King.
"Lei Long, your men aren't much use, huh?" Ghost King's face wore a sinister smile. "It seems you'll need to work a lot harder to reclaim your turf!"
"Hmph!" Lei Long snorted coldly and said, "Now I have neither men nor money. How am I supposed to take back my old turf? With words? Or should I run to Sunan and tell Song Yun that I'm actually not dead and he should return all the turf he took from me? Do you think Song Yun is an idiot?"
"I don't care whether Song Yun is an idiot or not. I just want to tell you that the higher-ups are dissatisfied with your prolonged inaction. They hope you will personally reclaim what's yours. You'd better watch out for yourself." Ghost King spoke, shook his head, and then turned to leave the room.
