The White Tiger is the temple totem!
Legend has it that the gods created twelve divine beasts.
These twelve divine beasts each guard a location.
Ensuring peace in their areas.
However.
This is a story ant to deceive.
It’s really about showing off power.
Back when Julius Reed dealt with the temple, these twelve beasts were nowhere to be found.
Unexpectedly, one appeared today.
But why is it appearing on my chest?
Julius Reed touched the tattoo.
No changes at all.
It’s as if it has always been there.
No bump, no movent.
Quiet and still.
Julius Reed sat cross-legged on the ground, trying to sense any change in his power.
But, still no discovery.
"Heavens, what a ss!"
At this mont, a hysterical shout was heard.
Julius Reed opened his eyes and saw the emperor dragging two people over like they were dead dogs.
"Master, they’ve decided to join you." Emperor, sweating profusely, threw them to the ground.
He had had enough!
These two shouted all the way, acting like madn.
"Well done." Julius Reed nodded, stood up, and walked toward Demarco Mount.
"Heavens..."
Bam!
Before Drexel Danvers could finish speaking, the emperor couldn’t bear it any longer!
He started punching and kicking!
...
Thousands of miles away.
In Gonzalez City.
Itai Huntington sat in the CEO’s office, staring blankly at a photo on the phone.
It was taken when Julius Reed accompanied her in the capital.
And that outfit.
Those days in the capital were Itai Huntington’s most painful period!
She had to face being abandoned by the Huntington family.
Facing those who forced her mother to death!
But after the actual revenge, was there happiness?
No, there wasn’t!
Itai Huntington even questioned life, questioned the aning of her existence.
Luckily, Julius Reed was always by her side.
Knock!
The door was knocked.
Quella Radcliffe walked in.
Itai Huntington quickly locked the phone screen, stood up with a smile. "Quella, there’s nothing much here, you don’t need to co every day."
"I’m free anyway, might as well co chat with you." Quella placed a stack of docunts in front of Itai Huntington. "The resort issue has been resolved."
"So fast? The news is blocked?" Itai Huntington was worried.
With so many witnesses, blocking the news seed almost impossible.
"Aron Jackson handled it, said they arranged bloggers to create a show effect to attract tourists." Quella shrugged: "Anyway, that’s how it went. But Aron spent quite a bit on hiring internet troops."
"He doesn’t lack money, no need for us to reimburse." Itai Huntington flipped through the docunts briefly and sat back in her chair. "I’ll take you for hotpot at lunch."
"I’m on a diet." Quella hesitated: "Or maybe..."
"You’re always dieting, just eating vegetables and fruits. If Julius Reed sees, he might think I’m mistreating you. Skipping one al won’t hurt; I heard a new hotpot place in Gonzalez City is quite unique!" Itai Huntington laughed: "Trust ."
"Alright." Quella returned a smile. "My treat."
"Fine, fine! We don’t count between us." Itai Huntington spoke while glancing at Quella.
Trying to gauge her reaction.
"Actually..." Quella held Itai Huntington’s hand. "You don’t have to love so humbly."
"Quella..." Itai Huntington was about to explain but was interrupted by Quella.
"Actually, when I wrote my will back then, I planned to have you take care of Julius. Later I survived, and looking back, I regretted it. After all, won..."
Quella lowered her head, smiling happily. "Besides, do you think there’d be a lack of won around him? If there’s ever another woman, we could always team up against those vixens."
"You... you really think so?" Itai Huntington felt a bit guilty.
"What else, he’s the best man. Otherwise, why would we fall for him." Quella glanced at her watch, pursing her lips: "It’s ti. Shall we eat?"
"Let’s go." Itai Huntington was in an excellent mood!
So good that she wanted to sing!
"President Huntington, President Radcliffe." The bodyguards imdiately followed from behind.
Aron Jackson had almost dispatched his elite, though their combat skills couldn’t compare to Martial Artists, their intel work was exceptional!
Especially paired with high-tech equipnt.
They exited the building.
Itai Huntington drove her sports car.
Today, she drove herself, taking Quella out for hotpot.
As the car left, four black sedans followed behind.
All of them were bodyguards.
On the street outside the building.
A man with sunglasses, wearing a black trench coat, squatted by the street smoking!
When he saw Itai Huntington’s sports car leave, he imdiately stood up, tossed the cigarette on the ground, and crushed it.
Then!
Started sprinting!
"Report, anomaly spotted! A Martial Artist suspected to be tailing Itai Huntington and Quella Radcliffe’s vehicle."
Not far away, a sanitation worker quietly reported.
"Received!"
An earpiece conveyed a response.
The Dusty Platform.
Aron Jackson was drinking.
With nothing else to do, he drank.
"Mr. White, our people reported news!"
Bam!
The door was pushed open.
A bald man was panting, holding a laptop, rushed in.
This was the new rule at the Dusty Platform.
Anyone, no need to knock.
Can enter directly.
Reduces unnecessary steps, increases efficiency.
"Look, this person in black seems to be following Chairman Huntington’s car." The bald man began operating the computer, displaying recordings and photos. "Our people, already four of them have captured the target. Our martial arts group estimates that this person’s ability is likely that of a Great Grandmaster!"
"Great Grandmaster!"
Aron Jackson stood up abruptly, dropping his glass, staring intently at the person in black on the screen.
"Good thing I set up good surveillance on the street; otherwise, I wouldn’t have caught this." Aron Jackson scratched his head, recalling that during the Dusty Platform incident, his hair was all yanked out by Julius Reed.
Thus, everyone at the Dusty Platform shaved their heads.
"Co with !" Aron Jackson strode out of his office, heading towards a room at the end of the hall.
Bam!
He pushed the door open.
Instantly stunned.
"Boss Harris? Miss Leopold?"
Aron recognized these won, well-known executives of Gonzalez City!
"Uh... my back’s been bad, heard this handso guy can treat it, so I ca to check."
"Been sitting long, got hemorrhoids. Ca to see, like Boss Harris..."
"My knees hurt..."
"My leg’s numb..."
Several elegant ladies hurriedly stood up, blushing, and fled.
"What’s the matter?" Hawthorne, holding a belt, chuckled: "These won are really sothing."
"Might have a Great Grandmaster targeting Quella and Itai Huntington." Aron gestured, and the bald man behind imdiately set the computer before Hawthorne.
"Definitely a Great Grandmaster." Hawthorne raised an eyebrow after watching the video. "Where’s the person? I need to go over."
"Can you handle it yourself? Do you need..." Aron began to ask but was t with Hawthorne’s mocking gaze.
"Drop the ’do you’ part." Hawthorne chuckled lightly. "And prepare a coffin for the guy, bring it along. I, Hawthorne, am easygoing; I not only kill but also bury."
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