Song Guanchao saw from afar that the area outside the industrial park's main gate was packed with people.
He parked his car, pushed the door open, and the noisy sounds invaded his ears.
There were roughly seventy to eighty property owners, surrounded by a mere five or six police officers.
From their tense faces, it was clear that they were exerting great effort to restrain the impulse to act.
The atmosphere on-site was taut like a bowstring; any external force could potentially disrupt this fragile equilibrium.
Vice District Chief Wang was on tiptoe outside the crowd, loudly persuading them, but in the eyes of the angry property owners, he was nothing but air.
The Vice District Chief's identity could not exert its intended effect at this moment.
Song Guanchao quickly walked towards the crowd, when suddenly, his attention was caught by something in his line of sight.
He stopped, and following his gaze, he saw a sedan parked to the right of the gate.
