"Yes, Dragon Seat!" Qiao Hai responded respectfully.
Chen Tang stood up and walked to the window, sweeping his gaze across the street outside.
The streets were still dim in the early morning, with few figures in sight. Suddenly, Chen Tang's brows furrowed, "What's going on down there?"
On the street below, a group of Men in Black were carrying an iron cage, swiftly darting toward the end of the street. Inside the cage, a faint girl lay unconscious, her life energy flickering momentarily.
But in that instant, Chen Tang felt a trace of familiar energy.
Qiao Hai said with a light smile, "Dragon Seat may not be aware, these are the minions of the Ikawa Clan from Dongying. They are primarily responsible for refining a kind of Puppet Corpse, a mysterious skill that involves some aspects of science but is not limited to that. Our Wandering Spirit has investigated for many years without clarity, and we have lost quite a few people..."
