In the main control room.
Sun Cheng, the director of the Statistics Office at the National Weapons Research Institute, stood at six feet tall. Dressed in a well-tailored dark suit with a white shirt underneath, he stood with hands folded behind him. His broad shoulders and straight back, along with his short hair that was both neat and spirited, revealed just a few wisps of white at the forehead—not from age, but from the long-term mental strain of his work.
At that moment, he was intently watching the electronic screen in front of him, focused on the gun in Shen Qianqian's hand.
He was looking at it as if it were a piece of perfect art.
"Yes, I'll go right away."
At his side, Zhao Xiaoli had received her instructions and immediately set to work.