"What's the Chairman going to do..."
Fatty Hu's question was cut off as the scene before him forced the words back down his throat.
He saw Fang Cheng suddenly accelerate when he was still two meters from the wall, leaping up like a great bird.
He swept through the air as a black shadow, not crashing into the wall, but gently adhering to it.
On closer inspection, Fang Cheng's fingers were splayed wide, firmly pressed against the surface of the tempered glass.
It was as if the slippery glass facade had become rougher than tree bark in his hands, providing unparalleled grip.
The next second, Fang Cheng exerted his waist and abdomen, arched his back, and alternated the movement of his limbs.
Like a giant spider, he climbed swiftly up the vertical glass facade.
"Snatch, snatch, snatch—"
Each time his fingertips gripped the glass, his body would shoot up several meters.
No hooks, no suction cups, no ropes.
