Pulling Up by the Roots, Clean Sweep

Tristan waved his hand to Cynthia.

Cynthia instantly understood. She walked over and sat next to Tristan.

As soon as she sat down, Tristan took her cool hand in his and spoke in a calm, unhurried tone: "Since we've figured it out, let's pull them up by the roots."

His words, spoken so casually, carried an undeniable, cold air of decisiveness.

Originally, Tristan hadn't planned to deal with these people.

In his eyes, they were no different from ants struggling to survive.

But they had made a grave mistake by targeting Cynthia.

Once they made a move against someone under his protection, they should be prepared to face death at any time.

Bryce's gaze flickered slightly. He studied Tristan's expression, hesitated for a moment, and spoke with deliberate caution: "Sir, the ninth branch has many important assets. Perhaps we could…"

Tristan poured a cup of hot water and handed it to Cynthia. "Let them keep their lives, but the rest is up to you."