The instant the station chief sat down, the entire room fell silent.
A dignified Transformation Strength Grandmaster had suddenly stabbed himself, then plopped down on his backside. The scene was simply too bizarre—like he had been struck by some evil sorcery.
The station chief himself felt it even more keenly. He stared at his own palm in shock. In that instant just now, he had felt as though he had become a puppet on strings; even his body no longer belonged to him, compelled by that strange force to move against his will.
But the problem was, he was at Transformation Strength. In this day and age, he could be called a Grandmaster—one in several million. His control over his body had reached an extreme level; he could even kill with his tongue. How could he suddenly lose control of the hand holding his knife?
What kind of demon art was this!?
Faced with such an unknown method, fear rose in the station chief's heart. He sprang up, trying to flee, only to discover that his muscles and bones had gone limp, leaving him unable to muster any strength at all.
"Save me!"
The station chief looked toward his most capable subordinate, only to watch helplessly as the second team captain turned and ran without hesitation. He intended to smash through the stairwell window and leap out, clearly possessing no resolve whatsoever to defend the station chief unto death.
But at that moment, Huo Yuanhong casually picked up the fountain pen from the table and flicked it.
Whoosh!
The pen flashed through the darkness, and the second team captain crashed down with a thud. He failed to hit the window; unable to stop his momentum, he tumbled all the way down the stairs.
"When bellies are full, people learn honor