After cleaning up the nearby insect race, a researcher on the vehicle stuck his head out. The man's gaze was steady as he glanced at a few individuals before stepping down from the vehicle.
Wu looked at the briefcase in the man's hand with interest, the contents of which were the classified cargo they were entrusted to transport.
"Dr. Yang," Wu asked, "Are you interested in telling us what's inside the box?"
"I'm curious about what requires four Prism Tier cleaners to transport."
"Just a brief mention outside the confidentiality agreement would suffice, so we can assess potential security threats during this operation for your and the cargo's safety."
Noticing the scrutinizing stares, Dr. Yang adjusted his glasses.
If these guys wanted to kill him, he might not even have a chance to perceive his death.
The man remained calm, merely raising his eyes to look at Wu again, then shifting his gaze to Pan Yan, Ghost, Chichu Hong, and finally to Curved Moon.
"No comment."
