Others in the Martial Bureau might fear the Punishment Hall as much as they would a ferocious tiger, but Wei Wuya, as a department head, was not afraid of it—at least, he was not afraid of a mere special envoy like Yang Tianpeng.
Having received Zhao Zhinian's assurance, Yang Tianpeng was not the slightest bit panicked.
"Wei Wuya, you're talking nonsense," he said.
"It's clear that it's you, the department head, who's been neglecting duties all year round, mismanaging, and allocating resources unfairly, leading to the deputy heads below you killing each other. What does this have to do with me?"
"I have already reported the situation of the Martial Bureau's Qin State division to the higher-ups. Now, you should be more concerned about how to explain this to the Martial Bureau's headquarters."
Wei Wuya snorted coldly.
"How to explain to the Martial Bureau headquarters is my business, so don't you worry about it," he retorted.
