"Say that again!"
Zhou Fan stared defiantly at Zhao Yinghu, his eyes glinting with murderous intent. It seemed that if Zhao Yinghu said one more wrong word, Zhou Fan would thrust his sword straight through the man's throat.
At the sight of Zhou Fan's move, the others reacted instantly. Zhang Lei and the remaining members of the intelligence team immediately abandoned their cleanup work, spinning around to encircle Zhao Yinghu and Zhao Yu.
Zhou Huang and the two women, as if on cue, drew their weapons and aimed them at Zhao Yu. Fan leaped over and, without a word, pressed her dagger against the small of his back.
Zhao Yu was dumbfounded.
'My uncle Zhao Yinghu is the one who spoke. Go after him! Why is everyone coming after me?'
'It can't be because I look like an easier target than my uncle, can it?'
Only Zhao Yinghu remained unmoved. Although he too was shocked by Zhou Fan's speed, he knew that if he had wanted to dodge, he could have.
