New York City.
Ao'er Funeral Home.
Cars come and go, the crowd is like a tide.
On the vast square of several thousand square feet, all kinds of cars are parked, with streams of people all wearing black coats.
On their cuffs, there is also a white flower.
Because there was a brief rain in the morning.
As a result, there are countless umbrellas here, creating an alternative space, and the drizzle falling on the umbrella edges hasn't stopped since eight o'clock.
The atmosphere is very sorrowful, vaguely featuring a murderous aura.
The funeral music is mournful.
A white man in his mid-twenties, accompanied by a strong ruthless man, stands at the edge of the second step, greeting guests from all sides.
He is none other than Zeus,
In Western mythology, Zeus is the Lord of the Gods.
As the most impressive young talent in New York City, the leader of the God Organization, his every gesture is filled with an overwhelming and unruly demeanor.
