Her God

The entire You Palace was shrouded in haze and was suffocatingly depressing. Because of Claire, Spark became even more grumpy and capricious.

The hall was in dead silence.

Spark sat at the long table, leaning over, with his legs folded. His posture was elegant and lazy, and he tapped the tabletop gently with his long and slender fingers.

There was a trace of coldness in his dark eyes, which seemed to want to shoot out at any time.

"If you can't even handle a little thing like this, what good do I need you for?"

There was a plop.

The man in front of him fell to the ground, shivering, too scared to speak.

He knew that he was doomed.

Spark grabbed the gun on the table and pointed it at the man's head.

Several guards rushed in, waiting to drag the body out.

The servants shrank into the corners, covering their eyes and daring not to look.

However, after a long while, no gunshots were heard.