Everyone's building up their own power base, shouldn't I start doing some too?
Fang Zong asked himself this question in his heart.
He deliberately handed over the Yin-Yang Road to Zhao Changle because he anticipated that such a situation of "blooming everywhere" would occur.
One person can never compare to many people.
Zhao Changle took control of the Yin-Yang Road, Bai Su and Daji expanded their influence in the Nine Heavens Rebirth Group, and Li Xiaoran, Xue Nuo, Youmingfeng and Luo Xiaoxia, as well as himself, also began to become more important in the Ghost Killing Team.
Everything seemed perfect, until one day, he raised his arm and waved...
"No, it's still a little short."
Fang Zong sat at his computer desk, turned his head to the right, and casually pulled open the curtains and screen.
Because he was smoking, the window was always open. The faint smell of tobacco made him more clear-headed, and in many people's eyes, cigarettes were much more reliable and trustworthy than people wearing hypocritical masks.
Fang Zong pondered, "The blueprint is too big, and the grand plan is too far-reaching. I can't always rely on myself to 'raise my voice'. Shouldn't I build my own power base?"
Then, if we were to establish this, where would we begin? Which group should we target?
In his plan, some ghosts were taken care of, some monsters were taken care of, and some military generals were taken care of.
The remaining ghosts were for him to use to improve his strength, and for a while, he really couldn't figure out which groups to consolidate into his ranks.
As I was thinking, a pop-up window suddenly appeared on the computer screen.
It's a pop-up window in a chat room, and it looks like it belongs to one of the advertisers that the hotel is partnering with.
However, this is the presidential suite, so it's quite strange that pop-up ads are appearing here.
Fang Zong looked out the window. It was pitch black outside; the lights in the building across the street had long been turned off, and even the building's outline was no longer visible.
He casually flicked away his cigarette ash, then casually opened a chat room, choosing one with many people. He stepped into the room, watching the people inside, some crying, some laughing, some playing, some joking, with a mysterious smile on his lips.
His smile was very charming, but he didn't move his fingers, neither typing nor chatting.
Many female netizens tried to chat him up, but all of them left empty-handed. Fang Zong's smile became more and more charming, and he unconsciously used the alluring aura he had once developed, attracting even more female netizens to visit, only to leave disappointed.
"Are you afraid of me?" Suddenly, a question piqued Fang Zong's interest in the conversation.
"I'm not afraid! Let's put it this way, it's hard to say who should be afraid of whom between you and me," Fang Zong replied.
For some reason, ever since Fang Zong started talking to this person, everyone in the chat room left one after another, and in just a short while, only the two of them remained.
"Where are they? Are they afraid of you?" Fang Zong asked with a grin.
The other party said calmly, "They've all crashed. They won't be able to start up until tomorrow morning."
"Why?" Fang Zong took another drag of his cigarette, looking out the window listlessly.
The other person quickened their pace: "Because I want to tell you my story, just for you. Remember, don't press the enter key while I'm telling it!"
Fang Zong: "Okay!"
Then, with a 'click,' I decisively pressed the Enter key.
The chandelier in the room suddenly flashed a spark and then went out without any warning.
There might be a power outage, but good hotels have generators, so guests won't be left in the awkward situation of having no electricity.
Moreover, the computer screen was still lit, and the chat history was still displaying normally.
The bright light from the screen made Fang Zong's face appear blurry, but he still smiled, moved his office chair to the window, and listened to the sound of the howling wind outside.
Fang Zongxiao asked, "Aren't you going to tell me your story?"
"Okay, I'll talk!"
The other person's voice was particularly cold: "I used to be useless. I was a terrible student, not handsome, not strong, and I didn't know how to please others, so I didn't have any friends. And then... I died."
Fang Zong: "I'm delighted to hear this."
"Why? Why don't they like me? It must be because I'm not good enough! So I'm good enough, I'm powerful enough, and I have many powerful friends, especially the big sister, who's both beautiful and powerful! I can do anything, I can kill whoever I want..."
His voice grew increasingly agitated, but Fang Zong yawned and said, "Get to the point."
“Alright, let’s speed things up then,” the other person sneered. “The boss said she’s afraid of someone, and that I’m no match for that person either. I just don’t believe it…”
"Get to the point," Fang Zong interrupted again.
"I said I don't believe in this nonsense..."
"Actually, you yourself are a wicked thing. If you don't believe in evil, you'll come to an end."
Fang Zong interrupted again. He had finished his cigarette and was stubbing it out in the ashtray when he felt his throat was a little dry. He stood up and went to the table next to him to pour himself some juice.
"I just don't believe it..."
"If you don't believe me, then go die." Another interruption.
"Hehe, I'm already dead. This time I'm here..."
"Who is your boss? A shrew or a ruthless empress?" interrupted again.
"Can't you just let me finish what I'm saying, you son of a bitch?!"
The other party almost exploded on the spot, but then Fang Zong yawned and said, "I'm thirsty, let me have some water first."
Fang Zong picked up the cup and reached for the paper juice packaging.
Before he even received it, in the dim light of the screen, Fang Zong saw a pale hand, seemingly swollen from being soaked in water, grab the juice faster than he could, open the lid, and fill his glass.
"Can you please stop interrupting me now?" the other person asked.
"Okay, and thank you." Fang Zong nodded, turned the glass upside down, and poured the entire glass of juice onto his swollen hand.
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