They did not resist because they were fully aware of the terrifying power of the bald masked man in front of them, something they could never match.
But their tightly shut lips and stubborn eyes indicated that they would not easily yield.
Next to them, Xu Hao lay like a rag doll, still unconscious.
Fang Cheng squatted down, checked Xu Hao's carotid artery and breathing, confirming that he had merely passed out and was not in life-threatening danger.
Then he stood up, his gaze as cold and sharp as an ice pick, fixating on the two men in jackets.
"What do you intend to do by taking him away?"
Fang Cheng's voice was processed, low and hoarse, revealing no hint of age.
Zhou Liang gritted his teeth, endured the pain, turned his head away, and did not answer.
Ali also closed his eyes, adopting a stance of non-violent non-cooperation.
"Where is your lair?"
Fang Cheng asked again, his tone completely steady.
The two remained silent.
