It was as if this Man in the Suit had not come by any known route, but had sprung out of a crack in the rocks out of thin air.
With an aura that sent chills down people's spines, he had simply settled into the back seat of Cao Xianming's off-road vehicle as though it were only natural.
Ancestor-class.
That was the label Qi Peiliang gave the Man in the Suit in his mind.
Naturally, the Survival Convoy did not dare offend an ancestor-class figure.
Though no one could figure out just what he wanted.
At this moment, however, the entire convoy had, in practice, already fallen into a situation where it followed the Man in the Suit's lead...
Not because anyone had given an order, but because something more primal, etched deep into their genes, was at work.
Like sheep catching a wolf's scent, instinctively huddling together yet not daring to flee, because that wolf was already walking among them.
Cao Xianming sat in the front passenger seat, his neck as stiff as an iron plate.
He half-turned, plastering a smile across his face.
His lips moved, then pressed together again.
He was hesitating.
What should he call this person?
He looked young and handsome, dressed in an immaculate suit.
Like a young aristocrat who had just stepped out of some exclusive cocktail party.
But Cao Xianming knew there was no telling how many years lay wrapped beneath that face.
Call him boss? Too much like street talk.
Call him handsome? Too frivolous.
While he was still agonizing over it, the Man in the Suit spoke first.
"Just call me handsome."
His voice was quiet, carrying a faint nonchalance, as though it were merely an offhand remark. "I like being addressed as someone younger."
Cao Xianming's Adam's apple bobbed.