The person who had just spoken had a voice as piercing as a sharp blade. It seemed to slice through the meridians and into the soul, bringing intense pain that was obviously the result of some powerful and baleful energy art.

Yang Qi looked over to see an old woman with wrinkled skin, who looked like a witch or sorceress of some sort. She seemed sinister and ruthless in every way, the type of person who had killed countless opponents.

And from the way she was looking at Yang Qi, it seemed she wanted to drain him of all his blood right then and there.

“So you’re not really here to talk business,” Yang Qi said with a slight smile. “The fifteen of you are all Perfect Gods, and that’s quite impressive. Fifteen hegemons of the Wasteland Bazaar, you could say. I shouldn’t be surprised that important people like you wouldn’t actually want to come talk business with a small company like the Sage Monarch Consortium.”

“We are here to talk business,” the witch said. “Specifically, the business of you becoming...