Slap.
An Nan held a revolver to his own head and pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
He smiled, placed the revolver on the ground, and gently pushed it into the cell.
Sitting in the cell was a noble-looking young woman, her deep red hair cascading down like a waterfall, with curling, delicate ends that hooked charmingly, framing her pristine, porcelain-like face. Her eyes and eyebrows conveyed a trace of cold aloofness; her eyes were deep and serene.
Despite her gaunt appearance, her beauty was undeniable.
She sat with her arms crossed over her chest, her legs crossed and swinging with a hint of disdain.
"If Miss Chen Jing is scared, perhaps she would consider signing the agreement,"
An Nan gave her a smile that was terrifying to the core.
On the table in front of Chen Jing lay a contract, specially prepared for her by the Corpse Eating Sect—a legally binding wealth transfer agreement under the Federation's system, all for the sake of her massive fortune.
