"Constable Zheng!"
Old Fan's eyes lit up as if he'd just seen his savior.
"Greetings, Constable Zheng."
The surrounding constables cupped their fists in salute one after another, clearing a path for Constable Zheng.
'How did we draw Constable Zheng out?'
Zeng Jihe, Monkey Head, and the others felt their eyelids twitch, a sense of dread creeping into their hearts.
"Constable Zheng."
Chen Ping'an cupped his fists in a slight bow, his tone neither servile nor overbearing.
"What do you think the Garrison Commandant's Office is? A wet market? All of you, crowding around here? Now scatter!"
Constable Zheng completely ignored Chen Ping'an. He strode into the Task Room and immediately seized the initiative with a loud roar.
As his gaze swept over them, some constables couldn't help but shrink back. Without waiting for another word, they immediately dispersed. In a few moments, only a handful of constables remained. Only Monkey Head, Da Shan, and Zeng Jihe's group were still there.
