"Damn, kid. You've got some nerve."
Li Wei sidled up and nudged Han Feng's side with his elbow, his eyes filled with the playful teasing of a veteran pilot.
"But I like it."
"When you're up there, take it easy. Don't actually get yourself killed."
Han Feng's lips curved into an enigmatic smile.
"Don't worry. I value my life more than you do."
Soon, ten vials of a pale red Potion were solemnly delivered.
Han Feng accepted them without ceremony.
Amidst the complex gazes of the project team—a mixture of envy and worry—he once again walked toward the "Falcon Third Generation" prototype, which glinted with a cold, silver-gray light.
His goal was not just to find the "Ghost" that haunted everyone's nightmares.
He would also seize this opportunity to give his Cultivation a powerful push forward!
He settled into the cockpit.
As Han Feng's hands once again rested on the cold control stick, a torrent of system notifications flooded his mind.
[DING!]
