Unwilling to give up, Steve raised his binoculars again and aimed them back at the clinic lobby.
This time, he focused directly on Yang Ming, who was reclining in his executive chair.
Just as Steve was about to study the man's facial microexpressions, Yang Ming suddenly stopped tapping his calculator.
Then Yang Ming slowly raised his head.
Across a hundred and twenty meters, through the clinic's blast-resistant glass, through the dusty window of the abandoned apartment.
The dark eyes behind Yang Ming's gold-rimmed glasses locked onto the binocular lenses with unnerving precision!
Steve's heart skipped a beat.
"He spotted me? How is that possible?!"
Every muscle in Steve's body instantly tensed. He was completely hidden in shadow, with nothing reflecting light, and had even slowed his breathing to a minimum.
Even the world's best sniper couldn't locate him at this distance with the naked eye, without any equipment to help!
But the next image in his binoculars instantly drenched the battle-hardened Captain America in cold sweat.
Facing his direction, Yang Ming curled his lips into an intensely amused smile, with more than a hint of mockery.
Then Yang Ming slowly raised his right hand and gave the lenses an utterly casual wave.
"Hi."
Though he couldn't hear him, Steve could clearly read Yang Ming's lips.
"I've been made!"
Alarms blared in Steve's mind. Without a moment's hesitation, he yanked down the binoculars and stuffed them into his backpack. His right hand smoothly drew the M1911 tactical pistol from his thigh, and he shifted into full combat readiness like a hunting leopard.
Meanwhile, inside the clinic lobby.
"Boss, why are you waving at thin air? Parkinson's kicking in early?"
Jessica spat out her apple core and gave Yang Ming a baffled look.
"Nothing. Just noticed an old man over a hundred