At half past ten in the morning, in a mid-range residential area in the southern part of New York City, a two-story apartment.
A group of SWAT officers, guns in hand, stood on guard at the entrance of the apartment, while several Crime Scene Investigation agents were methodically searching through computers and processing hard drives on the second floor.
Next to the study was a pink-toned bedroom exuding a girlish vibe, where Luo An sat on a chair with his arms crossed over his chest, silently watching a young woman sitting on the bed.
The young woman had a delicate face and sported golden short hair, looking not even thirty years old.
She glanced at Luo An apprehensively, and upon noticing her reaction, Luo An raised an eyebrow and asked with a smile:
"Seems like you recognize me."
"Of course."
The young woman swallowed, being in the intelligence business herself, knew there was no point in playing dumb. She responded:
