"No, I don't know. Should we call the police?"
"You must've eaten too much pig brain in your hot pot; our phones are confiscated, how can we call the police?"
"Ugh, what do we do now then."
"Let's just hide here. Who knows how many more of these psychopaths are outside; don't wind up like the boss and lose your life for nothing."
The entire Zheng family factory was now in chaos. Fourteen Martial Artists from Hong Kong were either confiscating phones, searching for Zhang Jinbao, Wu Hujie, and Huang Ao, or looking everywhere for the whereabouts of the Purple Ganoderma.
The security patrol team in the factory was useless before these Ming Jin Martial Artists. As soon as they encountered them, they were subdued on the spot and knocked unconscious.
And while these thugs were ravaging the factory like locusts, a lone figure headed straight for the office building in the factory.
That was where the factory manager's office was located, and it was also where the manager lived daily.
