C1890 1890

If what the white-haired old man said was true, Fang Fist felt that it made sense. He restrained his temper and asked after he calmed down, "You've said so much, but I still don't understand. I can be your hired thug or a laborer, but when it comes to those twists and turns, I really have a headache. Just say it. What do we do?"

The white-haired old man's gaze was gloomy