It was Siphaun.
The instant he saw the man, the name surfaced in Sancho's mind.
Just relying on slogans could never secure the seat of temporary leader of the Rebel Army. As the number-one enforcer under Siphaun, Siphaun's own creation, Siphaun himself had no reason, only absolute obedience to Siphaun's orders, helping him secretly clean out quite a lot of dissenting voices in the faction.
Siphaun had never appeared in front of Firefly, always operating in the territory occupied by the Rebel Army; except for the Rebel Army's upper echelon, no one had ever seen him.
How could he be here? Could it be that their operation had been compromised from the very beginning.
With a full-body prosthetic driven by overdrawing life force, even the special task force captain equipped with the latest-generation tactical chip was no match for Siphaun at all—his head was easily crushed in those huge hands.
Then Siphaun panted heavily, blood-red eyes turning toward Sancho.
