Flip the Table
The projectile aimed at Xu Huo's spine had left a hole in one side of the tabletop before disappearing along with the glasses man. The metal syringe was still on the table.
He pulled the thin needle out of his palm, where it had pierced the Space Ray barrier, and glanced at the blackened puncture mark. Then he picked up the metal syringe and prepared to leave.
"Um... sir, your hand's turned black..." The waiter was startled by the sudden change in color and hurried over to ask if he needed to go to the hospital.
"I just ate a color-changing candy. It's nothing," Xu Huo said politely, declining.
The waiter looked at him doubtfully.
Outside the breakfast shop, Xu Huo glanced toward the school, but still decided not to continue tangling with the Rebel Army. He'd gotten something out of the trip, at least.
Some of the psychological therapists who had been taken away and then returned were certainly members of the Rebel Army. It was either Dove or the Strategist. But considering that the "Strategist" had deliberately shown his face to the therapists, and that the Rebel Army needed someone to lead them, the one posing as a psychological therapist was probably the Strategist.
As for "White Blood," even if the other party hadn't given him the real thing, it wouldn't be hard to verify. He could just find an East District player.
However, "White Blood" wasn't a potion, and it might not be a chip either. He could get the answer from Zheng Yuci or from Agor headquarters.
The toxin in Xu Huo's palm took an hour to slowly dissipate. After making sure there was nothing wrong with his body, he found an opportunity to get hold of two East District players' corpses and