“That’s right. I don’t die that easily!”

A voice boomed, and a towering figure opened the thirty-foot tall doors of the memorial hall as he strode in. Naturally, it was none other than Frank, who had rushed to the memorial hall from the slums of South Zamri. “Huh?!” “What?!”

Everyone watched in astonishment as Frank strode down the center of the hall toward the crystal casket at the center.

His cheeks were flushed, his expression nonchalant. He definitely looked sharp in his suit on top of that-a far cry from his miserable self just a few days ago. Smirking, he strode atop the crystal coffin with a faint smile as he looked around at the guests gaping at him.

“H-He’s not dead?!”

“Is he starting an uprising here?!”

“The insolence!”