"We might as well buy the information." Gao Yu glanced at Luo Xiji's equipment, shrugged, and suggested an alternative; survivors had enough firepower to scrape through anything, so why share spoils of war with others? Polite as he was, he handed over a cigarette.
Luo Xiji took it, sniffed it, looked at the brand, but the Chinese characters were Greek to him. Though his face wore a flattering smile, in his heart he cursed him as a fool. 'I, a group leader with one hundred subordinates, do I need to sell information to survive? Robbing on my own will result in greater gain!', he thought.
