At five o’clock in the afternoon.

After their walk, Harvey York brought Prince and Shay Gibson back to the Storm Pavilion.

The place had been meticulously decorated. A lot of ancient calligraphy was also hung around the place.

The yellow flower pear wood couch borrowed from the Pagan family’s experts was a tasteful touch.

That said, just as Shay mentioned, the place was a mess.

The coffee tables were shattered to smithereens.

Teacups were also scattered across the ground.

Some Heaven’s Gate disciples stood on the side with completely swollen faces.

Three people were sat on the couch.

Other than Miles Keaton and Kora, Harvey looked at the third person.

The person was an elderly man who was clearly under five feet two. He was playing with a string of onyx with an unspeakably dignified aura.

It was as if he could dictate anything that would happen with his words alone.

It was clear that he was none other than Kalel Hoffman himself.

Other than those three, a few people in trad