"Are you here for the competition?"
On the road, An Jing and the others casually bought three servings of grilled cold noodles from a street stall in the Special City. They ate as they walked, chatting in a very relaxed manner.
"Yes."
Nian Quan had intended to pay, but Huo Qing was quicker. Now, he was eating this street food he would never normally touch, strolling and chatting leisurely with friends.
For him, this should have been considered a waste of time, but Nian Quan felt an indescribable sense of relaxation in his heart. "The rewards for this black market race... or rather, the special district race, are very generous, and it has the support from above."
