Jiang Weizong's fountain pen hovered over a section of the quarterly financial report when he suddenly felt a chill at the back of his neck. Of course, he had no idea that down in the shadows thirty-eight floors below, someone was counting the frequency of his turning pages to calculate the exact timing for a kill.
Though the commercial empire of the Jiang family of the Ancient Martial Arts World was supervised by clan members, the direct descendants did not directly participate in management. As the chief steward of the family's enterprises, Jiang Weizong's schedule was forever packed with to-do items. At eleven o'clock this deep night, he had just seen off an assistant who finished processing emergency documents and was mustering his mental energy to continue reviewing contracts.
Just as he rubbed his aching lower back and prepared to stand up, having only drunk half of the wolfberry tea in his thermos, a chilling voice suddenly rang out from beyond the bulletproof glass curtain wall: "Jiang Weizong, it's time to pay the blood debt!"
Chapter 121