Wu Xia was still in shock when the car door was already opened.
A middle-aged man in military attire stood at the doorway, his gaze revealing a powerful sense of malevolence.
"Please get out of the car!"
Wu Xia shivered all over.
That deep voice was like thunder, stimulating his nerves.
He had never seen such a spectacle on television.
With a heart full of doubt, Wu Xia stepped out of the car, and the middle-aged man waved at Zhang Lin, who immediately drove away.
"Hey, Zhang Lin..."
Wu Xia wanted to call out to Zhang Lin, but the middle-aged man's hand had already stopped him, his towering stature a full head taller than Wu Xia's.
He looked at Wu Xia with indifferent eyes, "Please follow me!"
It was still a brief sentence, with no explanation given, and after speaking, he turned and left.
The two squads of soldiers formed a protective stance as if to prevent Wu Xia from making any unexpected moves.
