A loud shout suddenly drew the attention of countless people.
Emerson Holmes quickly turned around, coldly casting his gaze in the direction of the sound.
When he saw who it was, an iciness and amusement flashed across his face.
"Ethan Smith?" Holmes once-over Ethan, smiling faintly, "What brings you here?"
"What I do is none of your bloody business." Ethan retorted callously.
Undeterred, Holmes responded with amusement, "I recall the last time I saw you, you were merely a master... Or even just a grandmaster?"
"Now, I'm your father," Ethan jeered.
"Ethan, I knew from the outset that you and Miss Taylor were doomed to end. It turns out I was right." Holmes continued.
"I'm with your mother, it's none of your business." Ethan snorted.
Eventually, Holmes couldn't endure any longer.
His face darkened, and he coldly retorted, "Ethan, you used to call me Mr. Holmes with respect—now that you've advanced to the half-step Martial Marquis, do you think you're invincible?"
