"Take him away."
Two attendants stepped forward and dragged the foreman with the broken wrist outside. His thick-soled leather shoes scraped harshly across the floor. He opened his mouth, not even having time to beg before the door shut behind him.
Bai Zhu sat at the head of the long table and set down his chopsticks.
"You really didn't need to put on this whole show. Just say what you want."
Zaiyilo placed his gloves beside his plate and looked at him.
"Pariston's assessment of you seems to have been a little conservative."
Bai Zhu paused for two seconds.
"How did he assess me?"
"Afraid of death, greedy for money, and fond of meddling."
Milluki immediately nodded and gave a thumbs-up beneath the table.
Bai Zhu kicked the leg of his chair.
"Whose side are you on?"
Milluki nearly knocked over his cup and hurriedly pulled back his hand.
"I'm on the dining table's side."
Zaiyilo watched the two of them fool around for a moment before raising a hand to tap the tabletop.
"I invited you all here to discuss business, not take sides."
With that, he pushed a stack of documents to the center of the table.
Names, serial numbers, batches, transfer times—the pages were densely packed with information.
Piyu reached out and pressed down on the top page.
"What about the missing investigation team members?"
Zaiyilo did not beat around the bush.
"They're all here."
Piyu flipped through two pages, her brows drawing tighter and tighter.
"I only see numbers. I don't see any people."
"Those who volunteered for the experiments signed records." Zaiyilo lifted his chin. "Those willing to leave can go with you. You may ask each of them personally. No one will stop you."
Piyu pressed the documents forward.
"What does a signature made