The two looked at each other and smiled.

Fang Zong asked, "Where's your arm?"

The arm, of course, is in the box.

Peter coughed, and Luke, not daring to object, handed over the box containing the severed hand.

Fang Zong stared speechlessly at the metal box on the ground; the complex password on it was simply dazzling.

The FBI is really rich! This box is so airtight, it could practically be used for nuclear sealing, and it's also a beautiful work of art!

“Fang, should I go to the hospital…” Peter asked.

"Then there's no need for me."

Fang Zong watched as Luke took out the severed arm, took it, and pressed it onto Peter's wound without even looking at it.

Peter cried out in pain, but suddenly froze, his eyes filled with wonder, just like Luke's and Lux's, who was walking over from the side.

Honey, come out and see God!

My God, what have we just seen?!

Fang Zong really liked their surprised looks.

Fang Zong's greatest wish was to become a doctor with amazing medical skills, able to cure all diseases with his hands. At this moment, he saw his palms as if carving the most beautiful carvings, with strands of yang energy seeping from his body turning into dense stitches, stitching Peter's severed arm back together.

Muscles, skin, bones, even nerves!

All stitches are complete!

The time is... half a minute!

Even the usually aloof Yasuo couldn't help but stare over, his eyes filled with astonishment as he looked at Fang Zong.

Then... a murderous intent appeared!

“Fang…this…my hand…” Peter stammered.

He stretched out his palm, and although it was not very flexible, it was clear that the severed arm had been completely stitched up, and all that remained was time for recovery.

In less than half a month, his fighting strength will be fully restored!

This power...

In short: incredible skill!

Fang Zong pleaded, "You'll recover quickly. As payment for the consultation, I'd like to ask you to come back to China..."

“Fang, this is your job!” Peter emphasized, then smiled. “But I assure you, this is the 21st century, a civilized society, and you are absolutely free. I guarantee that if you want to return to the East, no one, not even the FBI, will use any coercive means to stop you.”

Fang Zong: "..."

In short, I believed your lies!

Do you think I'm stupid?

So many prefixes, but no FBI personnel, meaning it's enough to just not be an FBI agent?

Does "not using coercive measures" mean that non-coercive measures can be used at will?

Break my arm off!

Fang Zong is very clever; when it comes to language games, no one has dared to play them on him since he was sixteen!

Peter noticed Fang Zong's unfriendly gaze and changed the subject, saying, "By the way, Fang, didn't you encounter the Netherworld Train?"

"We met." There's no way to hide it now.

"Then what?"

"I escaped."

"You escaped?" Peter nodded. "That makes sense. You have the ability to dispel ghostly energy, so it's normal that you were able to escape."

Fang Zong smiled but didn't say anything.

Of course, he escaped, but it was Nami, the core of the Ghost Train, who escaped. The outer train was destroyed by him. There's no need to say more about that; he's already very valuable.

If something is valuable, then it has value.

If you have value, you can live a better life.

If it gets even a little bit better, that would be great. But what if it gets too much better and I end up under house arrest?

In a foreign land, Fang Zong felt no sense of security whatsoever; even a safety belt couldn't provide it!

At this moment, Peter clapped his hands and called a meeting.

On the beach, there was a small, stilted wooden cabin, which was probably where the beach rangers were on duty. The rangers were gone, and the cabin was now surrounded by groups of special agents.

Upon entering the house, Fang Zong found that there were fewer people, only about ten, some of whom were not very old, but they did not look like ordinary people.

As a man in leather shoes and a black suit, Fang Zong found himself standing out conspicuously among this unconventional group.

Therefore, everyone in the room turned their attention to Fang Zong, staring at him in astonishment.

Luke followed behind Peter, also looking at Fang Zong with a strange expression.

You have absolutely no self-awareness. The worst person in the room is the chief agent, and you, a mere logistics officer, think you're qualified to participate? Who gave you the courage?

However, recalling Fang Zong's incredible skill just now, he didn't have the courage to say a word.

Fang Zong remained calm and stood behind Peter.

I came with Spider-Man, any objections? Go find your boss!

Inside, they began analyzing the situation and making battle plans. After listening for a short while, Fang Zong's lips began to twitch.

Here's what happened...

In the town of Carmel, an exhibition of cultural relics was about to be held. The Japanese government took a fancy to two ancient mummies that had just been discovered. The US government then said, "Don't be stingy, let's borrow them for a while." So Yaso escorted them.

And then, that was it.

This is the current situation in the town of Carmel.

Peter considered for a moment before speaking: "This is the situation. Last night, we launched a raid, and all the residents of the town died and became the ghost army of the Silver Armor Corpses. Guns and cannons have limited effect on them. Only capable personnel can use melee weapons to inflict casualties. As for the other Emperor Corpse, it has not yet appeared."

Everyone in the room looked at Peter, their expressions becoming much more serious.

Abilities, methods, spells... these are the world-wide classifications of those who possess special powers. In the East, there are no distinctions like Taoist arts, and in the West, there are no classifications of magic. These three terms are simply levels of strength.

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