Wang Cheng arranged for some food to be brought for the scruffy group to eat.
The meal was especially simple, with plain rice mixed with a little green vegetable.
But the food for Mo Lin was different: chicken drumsticks, lamb soup.
Perhaps catching a whiff of the meat's aroma, someone glanced at Mo Lin.
"What are you looking at? Eat your own meal."
Wang Cheng scolded that person angrily.
After Wang Cheng's words, the scruffy group all lowered their heads.
"Mo, be careful when you go to the East District.
The East District is not like the South District.
Though the South District is chaotic, it has order, and such random killings don't happen there.
But the East District is different.
The East District has no order, where lives are cheap as grass."
Wang Cheng was talking to Mo Lin about the East District.
He clearly didn't realize that Mo Lin had once come from the East District.
"Whirr..."
A gust of wind blew past.
