More than thirty black-clad bodyguards, all taller than one meter eighty, each of them a boxing expert.
They wore stern expressions, encircling William Cole, exuding a fierce aura, like wolves.
The white-haired elder continued, "Sir, you still have one final chance. Will you agree to come with us?"
"If you insist on going against us, I can't guarantee that my men won't hurt you."
William Cole looked at them amusedly, "Are you sure?"
"These few people aren't enough."
"If Stark only has this level of skill, I'd suggest he might as well be dead. There's no need to continue living."
"You're asking for it!" The white-haired elder's face turned dark as night, and at his command, the multitude of black-clad bodyguards surged forward.
"Swoosh!"
Three black-clad bodyguards charged at William Cole from his left, their fists aiming for his face.
Their speed was extremely fast, like lightning wolves.
"Bang!"
