The room was silent and cold.
Zhen Jin and his subordinates faced Li Yawei's icy glare, trembling without the cold.
They didn't think Li Yawei was joking; in fact, they had never seen her joke before.
Facing the muzzle of a gun, Zhen Jin swallowed hard, "Intercontinental Official..."
"Disarm!" Li Yawei commanded, her index finger showing signs of pulling the trigger.
Zhen Jin's complexion changed; his analysis system wasn't for nothing, as it kept warning him—extreme danger. The Intercontinental Official is suppressing the urge to shoot. It is advised to disarm and defuse the conflict. You stand no chance. The probability of being killed if you resist has reached 99%!
Feeling his heart pound violently, Zhen Jin glanced at Shen Yue and finally raised his hands. "With an observer here, I believe the Intercontinental Official will give me a reasonable explanation."
He had originally detested Shen Yue's presence, but now he felt somewhat relieved.
