"Uncle Wang, that's about enough!" Wang Anxiang's voice came through the invisible earpiece.
Tang Tiancheng watched the developments from his private room. Although he was satisfied, with nearly a thousand eyes watching the scene, it was not a place for excessive actions. Causing a death would be troublesome, so he reminded Wang Anxiang, noticing that Wang Jing seemed to be losing his rationality.
The atmosphere in the hall turned oppressively heavy as the stage fell silent. At Tian Yun, almost all the male performers were injured, and the females lay scattered on the ground in disarray.
Now, Tian Yun's only hope was the deputy head, Ling Fan, who had yet to appear. Otherwise, there was no suspense about the outcome—it was already sealed.
Feng Qiang lay at the edge of the stage, his eyes bloodshot. These people together held quite a reputation in Binzhou, yet he never imagined they would face such a fate on their own turf.
