Who cares about your master?

The moment Kent's words left his mouth, everyone paled. It was as if doom had descended upon them, which was ironic considering the one who spoke the words appeared rather calm. 

But, of course, they had every reason to react that way, knowing what they knew. 

Kent had just disrespected the only disciple of the Old Wicked Witch. That was an offense no one would be foolish enough to commit. 

Even the Pill Grandmaster in disguise, who had escorted him through the store, took a few steps away from him, increasing the distance. She knew it would be wiser to save her own neck than to protect some random, handsome man she had been trying to recruit into her family. 

"What did you just say?" the disciple asked, glaring dangerously at Kent. 

"I don't repeat myself, but since you can't hear well, listen closely. This herb was found and picked by me. I won't hand it over to you just because of your status or the family you're from. So, you can run along."