Before Chen Yi could begin his report.
Wang Xiaoming abruptly turned away from the large screen, a rare, almost fanatical fervor flaring in his eyes.
He had no doubts.
He had studied Lin Cheng's behavioral patterns. Lin Cheng would disdain lying about something so easily exposed.
"Lin Cheng, could you share your method?"
Wang Xiaoming strode over to the long table, planted both hands on its surface, and leaned forward.
The chief researcher's voice actually carried a hint of pleading.
It was hardly surprising that Wang Xiaoming had lost his composure.
Even Headquarters' most advanced experimental research, funded with staggering resources, could only barely help a Ghost Handler control three Fierce Supernaturals.
The process also came with an enormous risk of losing control, and the success rate was appallingly low.
Across all of Asia, captain-level monsters like Liu San, Li Leping, and Wang Chalin were exceptions that could not be replicated.
They had become Ghost Handlers of that caliber through their own abilities, willpower, and even legacies left by the previous generation.
Even now, Headquarters had never successfully used its own technology to produce a powerful Ghost Handler capable of suppressing an S-class event.
Li Jun seemed loyal and powerful, but Wang Xiaoming knew perfectly well that, in a fight to the death, he was more than an entire order of magnitude below people like Liu San.
Lin Cheng leaned back in his chair, watching the fervor in Wang Xiaoming's eyes with a faint smile, but chose to remain silent.
At Lin Cheng's silence, the fervor in Wang Xiaoming's eyes gradually cooled, giving way once more to rationality.
He straightened and adjusted the glasses on his nose.
"Everyone has secrets. Naturally, they can't be revealed so readily."
Although he had been refused, Wang Xiaoming did not mind.
He was still