Chen Hanyu repeated, "Suicide, what's wrong with that?"
Suicide!
The word exploded like a muffled thunder in Ren Zhong's mind.
He was stunned.
He turned his neck stiffly, turning his face away, his gaze piercing through the car window, staring outside.
At the same time, with excruciating slowness, he asked word by word.
"What exactly, are you saying?"
Ren Zhong's jaw was clenched tightly, veins throbbing on his forehead.
The scene that seemed serene and peaceful just moments ago, now exuded an eerie, sinister atmosphere in his eyes.
The trucks were still those white trucks, bearing the words of the Mengdu Group branch, alongside a small red-edged white-heart cross symbolizing medical aid.
The people were still the same, but all were going in, with none coming out.
Atop the truck were two conveyor belts, one sending some round objects to the high platform, the other bringing similar objects back.
On the high platform, the Hunters were still busy.
