"Now, please follow me. Your two friends have been waiting for you for a long time." A figure gradually walked out from the depths of the corridor. He was wearing a tuxedo, a white shirt with a stiff collar, and gloves.
The two looked at each other and followed each other into the room at the end of the corridor.
Max Fang held the microphone in his palm, quietly opened it, and put it into his belt buckle.
The police outside had already noticed the situation at the scene. Seeing that Max Fang's passage was opened and no one spoke inside, they did not dare to say anything. While notifying the helicopter and the fleet to stand by, their palms were sweating.
At the end of the corridor, a European-style carved door opened from the middle, and waiters on both sides walked around the banquet hall, holding plates in one hand and one hand behind their backs. A long table was empty, and a man with an oriental face at the main seat turned around and smiled at the two.
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