Qiangu Zhangting was currently seated on the rostrum with veins bulging on his forehead, reflecting his tumultuous emotions. His expression was slightly twisted, and he was gripping tightly onto the armrests of his chair.

Qiangu Dongfeng was situated on the main seat, and he paid no heed to this. He had already calmed down, and in his eyes, Qiangu Zhangting's defeat wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Setbacks often acted as the best motivation for Soul Masters, and there was a severe shortage of such setbacks in Qiangu Zhangting's life.

As such, he hadn't tried to talk Qiangu Zhangting out of his foul mood. This was something that he needed to recover from on his own and convert into motivation. He was already in his thirties; if he couldn't even get over something like this,...