Even if someone knew that these were his clothes, Zhang Beixing could still retort by claiming that a thief had entered his room while he was out in the afternoon and stolen this very outfit. After all, theft in Ancient Rome was hardly out of the ordinary. As long as there was no incontrovertible evidence, these people could not do anything to him.
With this thought in mind, Zhang Beixing was utterly composed. He stood up, found a place to hide the document he had in his hand, and then sat down on the sofa, leisurely brewing himself a pot of hot tea.
While waiting for the tea to steep, THUD, THUD, THUD— Messy, heavy footsteps approached from afar.
Immediately after, BANG! With a dull thud, the door to Zhang Beixing's room was rudely kicked in. Several fully-armed Ancient Roman police officers with guns walked in. Upon entering, without saying a word, they pointed their guns directly at Zhang Beixing.
