There were serious consequences for Jiang Chen’s anger.
The group trailing them was uniformly composed of middle-aged cultivators, empyrean, one and all. The man at their head had sallow skin and a sickly complexion, but was the strongest: a mid empyrean expert.
“These guys are small fry, Elder Xu. Is there even a point to following them?” a man with a split lip complained.
“Shut up, Ole Split-Lip! The boss told us to follow even the smallest fly. We can’t let anyone get away for any reason!” The sallow man was Elder Xu.
Split-Lip was a bit upset. “I think it’s better just to kill them. Saves both time and energy.”
“Ridiculous. If we kill them now, we’ll alert the sacred land’s executives. If the boss’ plans don’t work out, our heads will roll. How many heads do you have, eh?”
The split-lipped man sighed, evidently vexed. “What’re we supposed to do, then? Just follow ‘em? Until when?”