Clack—
The off-road vehicle's window rolled down. Anke raised his head, handed an identification card to the sentry, and said impatiently, "Hurry up and look. Once you're done, I can get the hell in."
The sentry gave him a doubtful look, then reached out and took the identification card. He glanced at the photo on it and compared it with Anke's face.
"Vester Steel Mercenary Group?" The sentry lowered his head to glance at the identification card, then looked at Anke again. "You're a mercenary?"
He lifted his gaze and looked into the off-road vehicle.
Anke shifted slightly to one side, revealing the neatly arranged weapons inside.
"What? Want them?" He let out a somewhat teasing laugh, opened the glove compartment, fished out a pack of cigarettes, and put one in his mouth. "I just came down from the front line. If you stop me, all this stuff can be confiscated."
"Wouldn't dare, wouldn't dare," the sentry said, closing the identification card in his hand. "But we have to check whether your identification card is real."
"Go on." Anke held the cigarette in his mouth and searched around, seemingly looking for a lighter socket, but found nothing. He could only lean back against the seat and look at the sentry.
The sentry gave him a half-believing look, walked to the back, and pressed the identification card against an identity scanner beside him.
Beep—
With a soft sound, the identity scanner lit up green.
Soon, the sentry walked back and handed the identification card back to Anke. "Sorry for taking up your time."
He raised his hand and looked toward the other sentries not far away. "Let him through!"
The sentries in the distance retracted the electric chevaux-de-frise, lifted the barrier arm, and opened the passage into the city.
At the