As soon as the words were spoken,
Gu Ji saw two pitch-black gun barrels aimed at his forehead inside the carriage.
"I advise you not to make any rash moves!"
A burly Persian pushed him roughly into Carriage No. 3 from behind and began to search him rudely.
"Is this how you treat your guests?"
Gu Ji spread his arms, allowing them to handle him, with no trace of panic on his face.
A subordinate with black-framed glasses took the documents from the Persian strongman, immediately opened his laptop, and in just six or seven seconds, displayed his information to Hasha.
"Guest?"
Hasha questioned him, looking at the phone, seeing all the identity information related to "Ah Ming," his expression immediately became extremely grim, "Speak up, who sent you here, the CIA, Afghanistan, or Saudi Arabia."
"Answer honestly, maybe we can spare your life!"
