In the second dining center of the National Arts Center, exclamations arose one after another.
"Is that Alta Devonshill! Is he dead?"
"How could this be? What exactly happened?"
"He was actually hung on a flagpole? When did this happen?"
"That can't be possible, right? We haven't felt any strong etheric fluctuations in the city just now. Is that body on the flagpole a clone?"
"It should be Alta Devonshill, I recognize him and his two business partners. This doesn't seem like an Illusion Technique or clone subterfuge; it makes no sense."
"The problem is, Alta Devonshill was at the Ninth Realm Emperor Rank, when I spoke to him on the phone earlier, his convoy had already entered the city center, who could have done this?"
"The key is the timing, after you finished talking with Alta Devonshill, only 12 minutes had passed."
