Dongjiang Police and Security Team Three.
Receiving the call to assemble, the flow of cars outside converged, one after another, with team members getting out of vehicles and sprinting toward the office.
Zhang Xilin ran while hastily pulling on his bulletproof vest, touched the chilly C5 compact pistol at his waist, and the tense expression on his face eased somewhat.
Taking three steps at a time, he caught up to the person in front and whispered, "Zhengyu, is it a major emergency? Chief hasn't urgently summoned us at night for a while now."
"Who knows?" Yang Zhengyu gave him a glance.
With annoyance, he said, "Don't I need to remind you about the confidentiality rules? Can this matter even be secretly inquired about?"
"Psh, who doesn't know that I, Old Zhang, am the Chief's number one lackey. If he tells me to go east, I never go west; if he tells me to beat a dog, I never chase a chicken. It's okay to keep it from others, but there's really no need to hide it from me."
