Mo Qian's body exuded a monstrous cold intently, making him look like hell's most powerful god of death. The cold and ruthless messenger of death.
The other people in the venue had already fled in a frenzy when Zhuang Xian and the others started to make their move.
Now, in this huge venue, there were only Zhuang Xian and Yan Zuo, the devil-masked man's subordinates and bodyguards, and Mo Xi, standing behind Zhuang Xian and was shocked to see his young master.
"Young master? What are you doing here? ..." Mo Xi strode forward and said incoherently.
More than a dozen armed bodyguards quickly emerged from behind Mo Qian. The moment they rushed over, they took control of all the devil-masked man's subordinates and bodyguards. The few bodyguards of the devil-masked man still standing threw away their weapons and surrendered on the spot when they saw the fully armed opponents.
