Qin Hui opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but in the end, he just pressed his lips tightly together and nodded heavily.
He understood that going down there at that level would mean nothing but being a burden to the others.
A suffocating sense of powerlessness gripped his heart.
Jiang Wei silently lifted her small face, her clear, wide eyes unblinkingly watching Fang Qingyu, her meaning unmistakable.
Fang Qingyu's gaze turned to the other side.
Wei Banmeng stood with arms crossed, leaning against the cold streetlamp, her dark purple combat suit almost merging with the night, only those cold, bright eyes standing out in the darkness, like a night owl fixed on its prey, quietly watching Fang Qingyu.
Her attitude spoke loud and clear.
Fang Qingyu was silent for a few seconds, meeting the two's gaze, and eventually nodded, "Jiang Wei, Wei Banmeng, come with me down."
....
The next morning, seven fifty.
The atmosphere at A-1 entrance was as heavy as an iron plate.
