Whether ordinary civilians, country farmers, traveling merchants who roamed far and wide, or even wandering warriors, under normal circumstances all carried some form of identification.
A card stamped with a steel seal, or something like a badge.
As a patrol officer, Ronan had the authority to demand to inspect a passerby's identification.
If they did not have it on them, they would either be fined on the spot or taken back to the precinct for questioning.
The traveler looked extremely nervous and hurriedly said, "Y-yes, sir. I'll take it out right now."
As he spoke, he reached into his coat and pulled out a card.
At the same time, however, the traveler's left arm dropped, and a blue-glinting dagger instantly slipped from his sleeve.
Into his hand!
The instant he showed Wang Chen his identification, the dagger, like a venomous snake pouncing on prey, silently and swiftly stabbed toward Ronan's vulnerable abdomen.
The traveler's expression suddenly turned incomparably vicious.
He did not think young, inexperienced Ronan could evade his fatal strike.
Yet the next moment, the poison-smeared dagger stabbed empty air.
How was that possible?
The traveler was utterly shocked.
But he had no further chance, because Ronan's raised baton came smashing heavily down on his forehead.
Bang!
With a dull thud, the vicious traveler rolled his eyes back and collapsed.
Cries of alarm immediately rose from all around.
Ignoring the surrounding clamor, Ronan kicked the dagger from the man's hand, then pulled out the handcuffs hanging from his belt and tightly cuffed the fellow, who had already fallen unconscious.
While turning him over, Ronan sensed something was off and reached out to yank at the man's hair.
He grabbed a whole handful.
The man was actually wearing a wig!
Ronan's eyes lit up. He turned the man over again