"Boss, when are the guns getting here?" Bald Paine asked eagerly, his eyes shining.
"Four hours. Get ready." After giving the notice, Feng Mountain picked up his beer and turned toward the tavern door.
He had only taken a few steps when he remembered something. He turned back, his expression serious as he instructed the three of them.
"Don't drink too much."
"Yes, sir!" The three soldiers immediately put down their glasses. In unison, they raised their hands to their brows in a salute, their movements clean and sharp, exuding military competence.
Just as Feng Mountain left the noisy tavern, he ran right into Snow and Director Roland.
Behind them were the four old men with their long faces.
The four old men had lost their earlier shrewdness. Their faces were full of helplessness as they followed along without a word.
"Feng, we're here to claim our prize." Snow, on the other hand, was all smiles. He grinned at Feng Mountain, his expression full of anticipation.
