The old man, named Harrell Gordon, shook hands with Yang Fan warmly when they met: "Mr. Yang, I've heard so much about you, and finally, I get to meet you today."
Harrell was a typical white man, with a big nose and blue eyes, and his silver hair was his most notable feature.
"You're too kind, it's nothing but an undeserved reputation." Nowadays, Yang Fan could communicate fluently in English.
"With the Dark Night Army developing so significantly under your lead, your contributions are indispensable. I'm afraid this time, in the final competition for global military supremacy, with your strength, Mr. Yang, taking the top spot should be no problem."
"With so many experts around, how could it be my turn?"
Harrell Gordon laughed heartily: "Mr. Yang, you're too modest. I'm looking forward to your performance this time, hoping you, the dark horse, can continue all the way through."
