Gem Atkinson stared at the smug words on the screen, his eyes filled with a strange mist. He took out a pack of cigarettes, lit one up, and smoked, asking the person next to him, "How's it going?"
Isaac Campbell replied: "The situation is not promising. This person is too cunning. Please, Mr. Atkinson, try your best to stall for time. I will do my best."
Gem nodded, holding the cigarette between his slender fingers, staring at the screen as if deep in thought.
Seeing that Gem was not responding, Forsythia Brown took the initiative to type a line: Are you checking my ID now?
The corner of Gem's mouth twitched slightly.
Forsythia: Did you find ten million IDs?
Forsythia: Don't say I didn't warn you, I've set bomb viruses in five of those ten million IDs.
Forsythia: If you accidentally touch one, you won't need me, a beautiful woman, to break through your defenses. All of Atkinson Group's security information will be leaked worldwide.
