There was a luxurious cruise ship parked at the port, its snow-white exterior paint particularly bright against the backdrop of the sun and the waves. Max Fang flicked the tie clip on his chest, where a miniature microphone was hidden. He was wearing a formal three-piece suit, with a narrow waist and straight long legs. The makeup artist skillfully used glue to glue his drooping eyes into narrow parallel eyes, which made his thin face look particularly malicious.
He got out of the luxury car, and as he walked inside, he casually adjusted his cufflinks that matched the color of his tie, glanced around calmly, and stepped onto the stairs.
"Oh, if only he were an actor, the way he raised his hands and swung his waist, he looked just like a rich young man or a gentleman." The young police officer in the car in the distance stared at the surveillance camera and sighed.
Another police officer curled his lips and said, "With such good acting skills and such long legs, how come he is not popular?"
"Bad luck," the young police officer smiled, "I can get into a life-and-death game just by riding in any car. It shows that I am very unlucky."
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