An Zhiyuan left the meeting room, his mind and body already gearing up for the upcoming task; he could even feel adrenaline pouring into his muscles.
Eight hours later, at night.
Five black figures were quietly traversing through the damp and lush jungles of Myanmar, communicating with each other through hand signals or whispering into the earpieces hidden under their dark caps.
An Zhiyuan, completely composed, in full battle readiness, led the team towards another four-story building deep in the jungle.
If their intelligence was correct, if what Sang Ji said was even fifty percent credible, then the evidence Sang Ji talked about would be in the safe on the top floor.
These notebooks recording their transaction history were the ultimate evidence they needed to control other drug traffickers; naturally, they also involved certain shadowy figures operating behind the scenes. Their job was to secure it and bring those people to justice.
