SLAP!!! A slap loudly slammed into Warren’s face.

In the Tullius Family’s conference room, Warren covered his face, not daring to speak a word.

Inside the family’s most pure and holy ancestral grounds, everyone in the Tullius Family was seated. A typical old western man, a beard on his face and his head bald, slapped Warren several meters away. The old man fixed his eyes on Warren as if he wanted to eat him. At the side, three men and three women, all of them Perfect Counts, and two of them even quasi Marquises, glared at Warren in disappointment, hating iron for not being steel. Their eyes flared with rage as they looked at Warren—ordinarily the most pampered and doted upon son of the Tullius Family. [1]

“How many times have I told you?!?!” the old man shouted angrily, “Why did you risk provoking a Chinese cultivator!!!”

“Although they’re not as good as America in the mortal world… in the cultivation world, they’re on the same level as superpowers like India, Greece, and Scandinavia! If all their Marquises came out, then they could swallow all of the Americas!!! How many Grand Dukes do the Americas have? Huh? Not even seven!!! On paper, China has TWELVE!!!”

“And this doesn’t even include China’s three legendary schools of Daoism, Buddhism, and...