The seconds ticked by.
The curtains in the room were all drawn. Feng Mu sat in the corner against the wall. Thus, if Lame really came, it would be hard to notice his presence unless he entered the room.
Against the main door sat a body tied to a chair with a thick iron chain, mouth sealed with black tape, head hanging low as if unconscious, it was Boss Zheng's corpse.
Ma Bin, sitting with his back to the door, appeared unconcerned about being ambushed.
Ma Wei stood a bit outside the door, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, the burning tip flickering as he paced back and forth, occasionally checking his phone, looking as if anxiously waiting for someone or a call.
Click, click.
The second hand of an old clock in the room was slightly rusty, producing a slightly piercing sound as it moved.
Ma Bin looked expressionlessly at the clock, with a slight frown; by his judgment, Lame should have arrived by now, probably surveying and monitoring the house.
