Inside the hotel, Yang Fei suddenly shivered violently.
The Turtle Extreme inside him issued a faint warning.
The Turtle Extreme's warnings had never failed.
Every warning always meant that a new crisis was imminent.
"Could the problem be with Hart Shaman?"
Yang Fei took a deep breath, his thoughts swirling, filled with suspicion and uncertainty.
At eight in the evening, the twilight disappeared, and dusk fell.
From the bar across the hotel, colorful lights beamed out, casting a bewitching allure in the night.
The name of this small bar was quite interesting; it was called Kuaihuotian.
In this tumultuous place, the business at Kuaihuotian was always bustling.
It wasn't because the alcohol here was good, nor was the service particularly attentive, but because there were women here.
Drugs, firearms, and women had always been the three main pillars supporting the underground economy.
