Who was he?

He was Yan Jike, a standing committee member of the Provisional Government and director of the Xiji Town management committee — head steward, in effect.

Shen Cong knew perfectly well who he was. They had gone around the introductions before sitting down, and he knew every one of the leaders in the room. He was only checking on something else: what gave the man the nerve to call him irresponsible, what lay under the words, and whether there was malice in them and a wish to do him harm quietly.

There seemed to be malice. The man's face showed displeasure, and there was contempt in his eyes.

"This is Director Yan of the Xiji Town management committee. Mm. Director Yan is a serious man about his work, and he hates a wrongdoer like an enemy." Li Sikai explained it for Shen Cong, plainly enjoying the trouble.

There was a fair amount of stirring the pot in it, too.

Yan Jike snorted coldly. "I am speaking to the matter itself."

His tone was hard, but his eyes kept sliding off Shen Cong's. The Hell Plant Armor was savage-looking to begin with, and with the cold eyes behind the goggles on top of it, even an ordinary man who could feel nothing of an evolved individual's pressure would be cowed by the sheer weight of the man.

The Hell Plant Armor was simply too big. Something that tall put a weight on a room all by itself.

Shen Cong ran a cold glance over Yan Jike.

He did not tag him to be dealt with. Shen Cong was no longer in the state he had once been in, ready to kill for his own safety at every stir of wind and grass. But a warning was necessary, even for a common scoundrel.

Nobody saw him move. His right hand simply came up, and the next moment three flying daggers were streaking at Yan Jike.

One word out of turn, and daggers answered.

The others had not yet gotten their breath back from Shen Cong's pressure when they saw it…