Leaving the city went extremely smoothly.
After all, the driving skills of the several drivers could genuinely be described as godlike.
What did it mean to travel at 150 kilometers per hour the entire way, with a top speed exceeding 200 kilometers per hour? It meant even the Cauliflower-Heads patrol had lost them.
Yet no one was relaxed, because the fierce battle that might come next could be far more dangerous than this mere racing pursuit.
"Old Tree Bearing Assembly Plant?"
The convoy had stopped outside Fatty's father's factory a minute ago. This was actually an industrial zone, with more than a dozen factories of various sizes.
As for the employees, there should have been several thousand, perhaps even tens of thousands.
But now, the whole place was deathly quiet.
"Boss, this place feels like a trap."
Sun Cheng, captain of the Second Armed Squad, spoke up.
"Yeah, I feel the same." Zhang Yang nodded, his gaze grim.
"Boss, are we still driving in?" McField asked.
"Driving in would be suicide, but turning around and leaving just like this would make us look too cowardly. All units, turn around and prepare for battle. I'll go provoke them."
Zhang Yang shoved open the car door and strode forward, holding the wooden spear in his hand. If he were an ordinary person, he probably really would have been helpless against this industrial zone.
But who was he? He was a genius who had reached the sixth level of Demon Language!
After walking a hundred meters in one breath, Zhang Yang stopped. He then threw back his head and shouted in a voice only he could hear: "&%￥%￥*(&&...&%."
Demon Language: Strength
There was no helping it. Zhang Yang's strength had not yet recovered, so he could only use this method to reproduce Demon