Once upon a time in Europe's underworld, there was a person whose rise was as meteoric as a shooting star, powerful enough to send shivers down one's spine. Whoever was on the list, there was no doubt about their fate, none could escape death.
At a certain period, just the mention of that person's nickname, whether it was local tyants or small country princes, all were moved by it, either in terror or trepidation.
This person, during that era, was known as the Eastern Death God—King Yan!
Sao Budrio gasped, the scorching sun giving him no warmth at all, feeling as if his whole body had plunged into an ice cave.
"Are you, are you telling the truth?" The Foreigner exclaimed in astonishment.
"Yeah, he's my brother-in-law, eh? You seem to have a bad expression, what's up? Are you feeling unwell?" Lin Hai asked with a smile.
The feeling of pretense was so exhilarating, especially upon seeing the dead-pale face of the Foreigner, even more so.
