With a gesture that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand unspoken commands, the man turned to his coterie of bodyguards, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. "Seize the West Side territory," he growled, his voice laced with a venom that sent a shiver racing down Xiao Zheng's spine. "Leave no stone unturned, no corner untouched – I want every last vestige of the Xiao family's influence purged from that sector."
The bodyguards moved as one, a fluid, relentless force that seemed to radiate an aura of menace that sent a shockwave of apprehension rippling through those gathered. Xiao Mingyuan's eyes widened, his features contorting into a mask of barely contained fury as he processed the implications of the masked figure's decree.
"This is not over," he seethed, his voice laced with a venom that seemed to reverberate through the very walls of the room. "You may have won this battle, but the war is far from over."
