Where did he get that from...
It was clear that, given Fu Qian's earlier performance, Red Dragon had taken him more seriously than ever before. Even so, the pass Fu Qian had just tossed out left him questioning reality.
In fact, the two ladies were just as stunned.
The effect was practically that of a wish-granting tree. It was a bit too absurd.
They were all seasoned veterans who knew that when things seemed too good to be true, something was usually off. Whether it was information or equipment, everything had gone far too smoothly. It was hard not to suspect that they were being deliberately led somewhere.
"Picked it off a corpse."
Facing the three of them, who were still frozen in place, Fu Qian could understand their doubts perfectly well—and knew there was no need to explain.
He'd known these people for less than half a day. Thinking he could dispel their doubts with a few words was the stuff of children's cartoons.
So he gave them an absurdly perfunctory answer and didn't say another word.
What could he do? You lot weren't pulling your weight. Otherwise, someone as indifferent to fame and fortune as him wouldn't have bothered stealing the spotlight.
The curious thing about human nature was that when you were treated harshly by someone demanding, you felt a lot less guilty about acting as you pleased.
Fu Qian's answer clearly reminded the three of how he'd behaved earlier with the group. Once his image fell into place, their desire to get a proper explanation faded considerably.
"Masked and the others might already be waiting downstairs."
Red Dragon quickly gritted his teeth, gripped the card, and stepped forward.
And, as expected, things went so smoothly it was unsettling. Once Oliver's pass was swiped, the elevator started