At the Chinese office in Xiao Molong, seeing the ease in Mr. He's eyes, Wang Yan said with a smile, "It did happen suddenly. I was somewhat caught off guard."
"Mr. Wang is perceptive, agile, and an exceptional marksman. They were merely a pack of petty thieves. They could never have harmed you in the slightest."
Mr. He truly had been nervous; everyone could see it. Xiao Molong's stability rested entirely on Wang Yan. If Wang Yan died, Xiao Molong would descend into chaos. The strategies already laid out and the resources already invested would all go to waste, and the favorable situation they had built would be lost.
He then asked, "What do you make of these people, Mr. Wang?"
"They were organized and premeditated. They colluded with people under me on both the military and political sides, planned this for some time, and knew my movements. I think the most likely culprit is Luan Basong. And not just Luan Basong—this may also involve the United States. After all, peace and prosperity on Three Border Slope, with me taking the lead, is not something they want to see."
"Mr. Wang truly possesses an international outlook and great wisdom." Mr. He nodded repeatedly. Then he picked up a file folder beside him, opened it, took out several photographs, and handed them to Wang Yan. "These were taken a few days ago. Luan Basong met this man, who is the military attaché at the United States embassy in the Bomo Federation."
Holding the photographs, Wang Yan asked, "You asked me here for tea because of this?"
"We originally wanted to give you advance warning. I didn't expect them to act so quickly." Mr. He could not help sighing.
"If they want to kill me, these people aren't enough." Wang Yan smiled.