Bang!
After hearing Feng Qihan's report, the 13th seat of the Spiritual Race, Elder Mu Sheng, smashed the table in front of him into powder. His chest rose and fell. He felt that the heavy breathing coming out of his nostrils was about to turn into two small tornadoes.
In the meeting room, everyone below Mu Zhengyue was silent. They did not dare to breathe loudly.
After Mu Sheng became angry, his face became redder and redder even though he did not say a word. It was obvious that he was furious.
This made Mu Zhengyue a little worried. Would his elder get sick due to anger?
"Bastard!" Just as Mu Zhengyue was feeling worried, Mu Sheng suddenly roared like a thunderclap. This furious roar allowed him to vent his anger. Only then did his expression gradually return to normal.