As for Wen Biao's little schemes, they are quite normal.
People without desires have no handles.
Handles will be discarded, and so will people.
"Boom——"
An explosion sounded from afar.
"This, huh?"
Su Huan hadn't finished speaking when the once bustling commercial street descended into chaos.
Vendors started packing up in a flurry, and passersby showcased their skills, dashing away.
A street vendor at the corner flicked a stick, instantly turning his stall into a bundle, slung it over his shoulder, and dashed into the electric bike charging shed, climbing up to the second-floor balcony.
The group eating earlier wordlessly lifted a manhole cover and climbed down.
After a series of muffled bangs, the lively street turned into a desolate ruin, devoid of any signs of human life as if monsters had wandered through.
Only the eyes on the Horse Doctor hospital building coldly watched Su Huan and others below.
"It must be something with the Guang Li convoy."
