[The screen flickers as if malfunctioning. It reappears, showing a surveillance room. A man, tall and lean like a long, shadowy ghost, stands in a black robe before the monitors, a playful smirk touching his algae-green eyes.]
"Mr. Chimei, are we really just going to watch them sneak in like this?" Wu Conglin, the current commander of Missile Base 39, asks with a hint of anxiety in his brows, urging for an answer.
The man he addresses acts as if he hasn’t heard a word. His long, pale, bony fingers dance nimbly, shuffling a deck of metallic-textured playing cards back and forth with the grace of a polished stage performance.
Chapter 373