At two in the morning, Lansha Street fell into a deathly silence.
The shops along the street had long since closed, their faded signs swaying gently in the wind.
The already sparse streetlights had dimmed by two more, leaving only enough glimmer to barely outline the cracked concrete road.
A piercing screech of tires suddenly shattered the night sky.
A black car shot out from the corner, its headlights slicing through the fog with beams of ghastly white.
The speeding wheels skidded quickly over a puddle and came to a stop in the middle of the road.
If a normal person saw this, they'd definitely think it was the scene of a skid-induced accident.
But neither the driver nor Fang Qingyu could worry about that now.
Since he had agreed to it.
The staff had switched the radio to the channel next to the force field.
And from their conversations.
The situation was not optimistic.
