Although Wind Media had long expected the intelligence to differ from reality, the enormity of the discrepancy was still somewhat surprising, causing Tang Luo to be caught off guard.
Seeing Tang Luo's silence, Dong Zhi became so frightened that he dared not speak and even made his breathing as light as possible, thinking that now that he had finally returned to Hyderabad, if he accidentally angered the masked man and provoked him to kill, it would be terrible.
Dong Zhi, who had grown up in the slums of Hell, had always understood one thing: right or wrong never mattered—fists were the solution to problems, and without a doubt, the masked man's fists were astonishingly strong, just like the legendary abode of gods.
As Dong Zhi was anxiously fretting, the raspy voice rang out again, without the expected fury, only calm and composure.
"Will the Krahō Temple open tomorrow?"
