The dark earth shrouded in shadows.
The Sicuro Mafia escaped from the villagers' pursuit effortlessly and were now resting inside the black business car, gathering their energy.
In truth, escaping from the villagers without harming them was nothing to them, merely a matter of using a few non-toxic smoke bombs.
But inside the Ancient Tomb, indeed, they had expended quite a bit of effort and needed proper adjustment.
Han Shang lowered his eyelids, appearing somewhat languid. His thin lips parted, saying, "Beckett."
"I'm here..." Beckett's heart was racing with unease, nervously saying, "What can I do for you, Little Boss?"
Han Shang tapped his leather seat with his index finger, speaking leisurely, "Beckett, will you suddenly fail to recognize me?"
"I swear loyalty to Little Boss unto death, certainly won't..." Beckett felt cold sweat forming as he responded anxiously.
