Reflecting on the past, Jason quietly leaned against the wooden crate, covered with a blanket, seemingly asleep, while the sounds of conversation from Ter Street No. 3 continuously reached his ears—
"That guy had someone to pick him up, lost track."
The third person said.
"Hmph, I should have gone."
The 'Warner' let out a cold snort.
"You go?
If you went, you might not have come back."
The third person retorted.
"Are you looking down on me?"
The 'Warner' questioned.
"It's not disdain, but a fact. If you're confident you can survive an ambush by a team of twenty gunmen, just take it as if I didn't say anything, especially when five of them are holding submachine guns and everyone is carrying grenades."
The third person sneered coldly.
This time, the 'Warner' remained silent.
Obviously, this 'Warner', although confident in his extraordinary skills, was not blindly ignorant.
