"No need." Ye Miao discharged the cut sheep into his mouth and chewed them carefully. The food in his mouth had not yet come down his throat. Suddenly he heard a roar, as if everything on the table was moving.

A fat tiger darted in and flew away in the direction of Ye Miao. Even though it was calm at ordinary times, it would still be a little unexpected.

Ye Zhao stood up, pulled out two rows of pistols that had been placed behind him, pointed them at the tiger's head, and looked at the man who had been sitting quietly at the other end. As a matter of fact,...