After all, this kind of sensitive living body trade is prone to unexpected changes when conducted on the ground, attracting inspections from the Special Search Team.
Air transport is undoubtedly the safest and fastest way.
If you want to intercept it, unless you can fly or chase with a helicopter, all you can do is watch helplessly.
With this thought, the fog before his eyes cleared away.
Fang Cheng looked up at the wall clock, the hands firmly pointed at ten-thirty at night.
There is an even more important point.
This shady business can never be carried out in broad daylight, it’s most likely carried out at night.
If we are to save soone, now is the ti, we must seize every second.
But we can’t just rush in impulsively, necessary intelligence work must be prepared in advance.
And the information Ah Le provided is clearly not enough to support a successful raid.
"Wait for a mont."
After careful consideration, Fang Cheng had an initial plan in mind.
He didn’t offer much explanation, just gave Ah Le a simple instruction.
Then, he walked to the center of the living room, sat cross-legged on the floor.
His hands naturally drooped, his back straight and breathing quickly beca deep and steady.
In just a few breaths, he beca motionless, like an old monk in ditation.
Ah Le held the disposable paper cup, sitting stiffly in the chair, looking stunned.
He watched Fang Cheng, who was resting with his eyes closed, and couldn’t help but twitch his eyes twice.
Is this... sleeping?
And at such a critical mont?
In that mont, Ah Le even felt a sense of absurdity, wanting to urge him, but was overwheld by Fang Cheng’s invisible aura.
He stared at Fang Cheng’s calm face, and suddenly stories about mutants flashed through his mind.
It’s said that true experts possess extraordinary abilities beyond understanding.
Perhaps Fang Cheng, like the legendary beings, could let his spirit wander beyond his body.
Thinking of this, Ah Le suppressed his inner anxiety, swallowing back the words he was about to say.
Having staked his hopes on him, he could only trust unequivocally.
The room fell silent, oppressively so.
Only the old-fashioned wall clock made monotonous and chanical sounds.
"Tick-tock," "tick-tock."
Each sound felt like it was striking Ah Le’s tense nerves.
The wind outside seed to pick up, causing the aluminum window fras to make slight vibrating sounds.
Ah Le dared not move, fearing to disturb Fang Cheng, maintaining his rigid posture.
The wound on his abdon still throbbed with dull pain, cold sweat sliding down his temples, tickling into his collar with a clammy coolness.
He frequently lifted his head, looking at the wall clock hands, then back at the unmoving Fang Cheng.
Every passing second was pure tornt for him.
Ten minutes.
Twenty minutes.
As the hour hand was about to touch eleven, a modified racing car roared past in the distance, breaking the silence of the room.
At that mont, Fang Cheng, who had been like a statue, had his eyelashes twitch.
Then, his tightly closed eyes slowly opened.
There was no drowsiness but clear and penetrating clarity in them.
Like two deep, bottomless cold springs, a faint chilling golden glow flickered within.
"Mr. Fang?"
Ah Le had been watching him, imdiately leaning forward, urgently asking:
"How is it? Can we take action now?"
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