When Si Wenji stepped into the conference room, the spacious hall was already filled with over a hundred people, chatting and laughing with one another. Many were also bowed over their phones, silent and engrossed.
It had been only five minutes since Zhao Jianzhong had created the neutral ground.
Everyone's seating was concentrated within the first three rows. Clearly, even within the Yan Zhao Club, this group belonged to the echelon of the elite.
It was only to be expected.
After all, this was about attending the Yan Zhao Club, not a fight to the death.
For those skirting the edges of the Yan Zhao Club, it might be a life-threatening challenge, but for the strong ones who could securely attend the club, it was just an ordinary stretch of road.
As for those who were overly idle and insisted on deliberately delaying time, showing off their powers in front of weaker people from Yan Fu or even hindering or killing them, it was not just shameful but also a grave taboo.
