As dusk fell, the setting sun gradually slid behind the mountains, its afterglow filtering through the glass of the iron window into the room, adding a touch of brightness to the otherwise dim space.
This room, less than twenty square meters, housed a single steel chair near the window.
Chen Fan sat on the chair, his limbs shackled to it.
A short distance in front of the chair was a table, above which hung a light. Next to the table sat three criminal investigation officers, behind whom stood two fully armed Special Forces guards, steel guns in their hands, their indifferent gazes fixed tightly on Chen Fan.
However—
Intertwined with their indifference was a hint of regret.
For them, the task they loathed the most was arresting their former comrades.
The rank of Dragon Tooth was much higher than that of their Special Forces squad, but fundamentally, they and Chen Fan were of the same kind.
In the room, Chen Fan's expression was very calm, like an undisturbed lake surface.
