Venerable Demon King & The Doting Immortal (QT)
Chapter 267: What a F*** pervert

Chapter 267: What a F*** pervert

The tension in the room crackled like dry kindling, an electric anticipation hanging thick in the air. The grand room, adorned with an opulent chandelier, was now shrouded in an oppressive silence. It was a silence so profound that one could almost hear the soft hum of the vintage clock ticking in the corner, each second stretching longer than the last.

Han Xin’s calm defiance echoed in the stillness as he uttered the word "no," a simple syllable that shattered the fragile veneer of family loyalty. Han Jing’s heart raced, the pulse of his fury thrumming in his ears. His lips twitched, a slight tremor of rage rippling across his features, like a storm brewing on the horizon.

Those who had witnessed his temper beforeknew that he was on the verge of exploding. He was like a restrained beast his jaws clenched and muscles coiled tight, ready to unleash chaos on this unfilial son. He regretted not killing this bastard when he killed his mother. It would have been good to get rid of this thorn but who made his legitimate son useless?

Suddenly, with a swift movement that seemed to defy the very laws of gravity, Han Jing thrust his hand beneath the table. The metallic glint of the gun emerged, a sinister harbinger of his fury. He aimed it squarely at Han Xin, who sat unnervingly composed, betraying no fear, no acknowledgement of the imminent threat. To Han Xin, it was as if the weapon was merely a toy, its weight insignificant against the unyielding resolve that anchored him.

"You think I won’t do it, huh?" Han Jing’s voice thundered, each syllable dripping with venom. His declaration hung in the air, heavy and oppressive, echoing against the marble walls. "I should have never given birth to you, you unfilial son."

Han Xin’s lips curled into a sneer, a small act of rebellion that ignited the fire in Han Jing’s chest. "You really shouldn’t have," he retorted, his tone laced with a nonchalance that only fueled Han Jing’s rage.

With a roar that reverberated through the room, Han Jing pulled the trigger. The gunshot rang out, a deafening crack that shattered the silence, the bullet zipping past Han Xin and embedding itself in the wall behind him. It was a warning, a misguided attempt to scare him. But it didn’t go as planned. Han Xin remained unyielding, his expression unperturbed, as if he were merely watching a play unfold before him.

Fuming, Han Jing’s face contorted in a mask of fury, his face as the Dragon Head completely gone. He was now a joke in front of the other clan leaders.

Clan Leader Qin, a voice of reason amidst the chaos, stepped forward, his demeanour calm yet commanding. "You can’t let your anger blind you," he urged, his voice steady. "Xiang Yu values him so use that to your advantage. He will come for him."

Reluctantly, Han Jing’s rage warred with the logic presented before him. His lips twitched as he battled the rage within, but he knew deep down that Clan Leader Qin’s strategy was sound. After a tense moment, he took a step forward, but the other clan leaders surged to restrain him.

"Let him go," Clan Leader Qin ordered, knowing that Han Jing would not act recklessly. With a fierce resolve, Han Jing strode across the room, the weight of the gun in his grip a reminder of the power he wielded. In one swift motion, he struck Han Xin with the butt of the weapon, the sound of metal against flesh echoing like a war drum.

Han Xin tilted his head, a fleeting spark of annoyance flashing in his eyes as he touched the corner of his lip, feeling the warmth of blood seep onto his fingertips. The two faced each other, the air thick with animosity, their gazes locked in a primal battle for dominance, each refusing to back down.

The standoff lingered, a silent contest of wills, until Han Jing broke the tension, retreating to his seat. He tugged at his shirt collar in frustration. He was thinking that once he got his hands on Xiang Yu he would put his son in his place and strip all his power from him and

lock him up. That is after he forced him to watch Xiang Yu get tortured to death. Just this thought made him feel at ease.

With a sudden outburst, he turned to the butler, his voice slicing through the air like a knife. "What are you looking at? Get Xiang Yu on the phone!" The command reverberated through the room, an ominous promise of the storm that was yet to come.

***

The air in Peng Xiu’s office was thick with tension, the kind that clung to the skin and made the breath feel heavy. Xiang Yu stood amid the debris, papers strewn across the floor like fallen leaves after a storm, the once meticulously organization room now a chaotic mess.

He had turned the place upside down, searching through devices and documents with a fervour looking for anything that Peng Xiu was hiding. The expert programmer he had called were already digging into the digital remnants of Peng Xiu’s secrets. So far they had only found secret pictures of Han Xin taken of him and in some he was even shirtless.

"What a fucking pervert," he said through gritted teeth as his fingers brushed over a sleek tablet. His phone suddenly buzzed and he reached into his pocket to take it out. The screen lit up with Han Zhan’s name, and a smile flickered across Xiang Yu’s lips, a sinister curl that hinted at the violence waiting to be unleashed. It seemed things had gone in the expected direction and his sweetheart was asking him to go to war for him. This Demon King would gladly burn down the entire world for him.

He left the mess behind, stepping out of the office with an air of purpose, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly as he walked toward the elevator.

If the twins had been present, they would have trembled in excitement at the sight of their master’s smile. It was a look that promised bloodshed, a signal that the calm before the storm was about to shatter into chaos. The elevator doors slid shut, enclosing him in a metal box that descended to the underground garage, where the dim lighting cast long shadows and the scent of oil and rubber filled the air.

Upon arrival, Xiang Yu spotted Han Zhan sitting inside sleek black SUV. The moment Han Zhan rolled down the window, his eyes scrutinised Xiang Yu with a mix of curiosity and wariness. "How do you want to handle this?" he asked, the casualness of his tone belied by the gravity of the situation.

Xiang Yu leaned against the car door, about to respond when his phone rang again. The sudden interruption pulled his attention, and he glanced at the screen, noting the unknown number flashing ominously. He held it up for Han Zhan to see, who immediately recognised the number.

"That’s the Han family’s butler. That old fart is probably calling on behalf of Han Jing," he remarked, a hint of disdain creeping into his voice.

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