Almost in an instant, Luo Qian located several British agents. Some had left, but a few had stayed behind to clean up. He questioned two at random. Even with their brutal mental training, they quickly surrendered and told him everything. Luo Qian compared three accounts, made sure they matched, then set off for his target.
It was a secret gathering point for British agents. No one knew how many such bases existed around the world. The British Empire's sun had set, but even a starving camel was bigger than a horse.
The base was an old factory outside London. On an ordinary day, only a few trucks came and went. Luo Qian circled it, stamping his foot a few times. He knew this trick well: years ago, he had used it to get back at the merchant who had sold him a gray-market laptop. Now he was using it on the Brits. That earlier Formation had scattered wealth. This one was far nastier—it would draw lightning. From now on, whenever wind and rain brought thunder and lightning, this place would be a danger zone for lightning strikes. Best keep clear.
The British agents had experience dealing with people with supernatural abilities. They held Chen Baozi in a special cell that shut out everything and thwarted many strange methods of detection. But against Luo Qian, a being a full two levels above anything in this world, it was child's play. This time he alerted no one. He took Chen Baozi and left. Having already raised hell at their headquarters, he had little interest in this minor base. Whoever was posted here later could only pray for luck. Being struck by lightning anywhere else would be one thing; they had better not end up as "electric roast chicken."
Back in China, Chen