Verion exhaled sharply, a hint of irritation flashing across his face. It's been a long time since I've dealt with scum like this. No, this guy's worse.
His blue eyes narrowed as he took in the man before him.
Sleek black hair slicked back, a gaudy crimson robe embroidered with golden flames, and an overabundance of jewelry adorned his fingers and neck.
The Zhang family crest was emblazoned on his chest—a proud symbol worn arrogantly, though tarnished by the man who bore it.
Zhang Liang's sneer deepened as he caught Verion's cold gaze. "What are you looking at, kid? Don't you know who I am?"
Verion tilted his head slightly, studying him in silence. Beneath Zhang Liang's flashy exterior, Verion sensed his Qi—a pitiful, flickering ember barely reaching Martial Expert.
No wonder they call him trash, Verion thought with a quiet laugh. A Martial Expert? In a family like the Zhangs? How embarrassing.