South Africa, a certain city, atop a certain hotel.
Chris sat on the sofa, holding a glass of red wine, his old face draped with gloom.
The black grandmaster and another grandmaster sat on the sofa, silent. The two unsuccessful assassination attempts had left them particularly irate.
"Have all the remnants of DK and Death Scythe been cleared now?" Chris asked.
The black grandmaster nodded, "Yes, everything has been cleaned up. Those who pledged allegiance have basically aligned with us. From now on, there will be no DK and Death Scythe."
"Very good!"
After Chris nodded, he sneered coldly, "I reckon those guys will intensify their revenge against us. Tell everyone to heighten their guard and let me know immediately if they spot any activity of theirs. Next time, I will not let them escape, I want them to pay a heavy price for their stupidity."
The black grandmaster and another master-level expert started laughing coldly.
