Sean Daniel stared at the syringe in his hand, worry spilling into his eyes.
"How do you feel right now? Any adverse reactions in your body?"
As a Sentinel enhanced by the Long Family, Yan Nanxun's physique was different from ordinary people; many drugs simply didn't work on him.
And what Long Xingkui had stabbed into Yan Nanxun was definitely not some ordinary drug. Sean Daniel thought of those subordinates of Yan Nanxun—every last one of them was dead, yet their bodies showed no wounds, not even a drop of blood.
Sean Daniel felt the chill in his heart deepening, but Yan Nanxun was far calmer than he was. Yan Nanxun fixed his gaze on the road ahead, then glanced at the rearview mirror; behind the van, several cars were closing in.
"Sean."
Yan Nanxun called his name.
Sean Daniel was undoing the shackles on his feet. Yan Nanxun was busy driving and only had time to help him remove the cuffs that bound his hands.
"What are you doing?"
