Luo Zheng reported the license plate number and continued forward cautiously. After walking less than two hundred meters, suddenly, the sound of tires screeching on the ground echoed urgently. Immediately, several small cars rushed in from various street corners, their windows rolled down, and guns emerged, their dark barrels exuding a chilling murderous aura, deadlocked on Luo Zheng.
With a "whoosh," some burly men jumped out of the cars before they even stopped completely. All dressed in black suits, their expressions stern, repressed murderous intent, and sharp eyes locked onto Luo Zheng. They advanced rapidly, and some shouted loudly, "Hands on your head, squat down."
"Huh? Who are you?" Luo Zheng looked coldly at the people rushing over, feeling something strange, and asked.
"I can't see. I'll check the satellite right away," Lan Xing's voice sounded in the earpiece.
