Fang Zong remained silent. As for whether something was suitable or not, in fact, there was nothing that was unsuitable for him. As long as he could touch something, he could become stronger.
He picked up the medical documents and said as he looked at them, "I've already arranged for that director to be dealt with."
"Thanks."
Fang Zong raised his eyelids, somewhat puzzled: "Why didn't you kill him yourself?"
“Killing is addictive,” Lin Qiaoyu replied. “If you kill one, you can’t help but kill a second. I don’t want to kill indiscriminately.”
Actually, it's fine as long as we don't kill our compatriots, I don't care. Fang Zong gave Lin Qiaoyu a deep look and laughed, "Alright, Joan of Arc, I won't touch you anymore."
Lin Qiaoyu immediately looked down at her chest.
...
Lin Qiaoyu naturally settled down at Fang Zong's place.
She was a ghost living in the lair of the FBI's chief agent.
In the early morning, Fang Zong studied medical materials as usual. Three hours later, he began to move his body.
Of course, it's sword practice!
Lin Qiaoyu watched from the side, her eyes cold and devoid of any emotion. Half an hour later, she suddenly said, "I told you, you are not suited to practicing swordsmanship!"
Fang Zong looked over in confusion; this was the second time Lin Qiaoyu had said this.
Lin Qiaoyu continued, “You can touch, no, you steal my strength, you use your hands. You are suited to learn hand skills. I have a set of 358 grappling techniques that suits you. If you like it, I will teach you!”
So that's what paper looks like.
Fang Zong laughed.
Next came practice. In addition to the Three-Five-Eight Grappling Technique, Lin Qiaoyu also taught Fang Zong a set of Drunken Swordplay.
Grappling is simple, with thirteen routines. Once you've mastered them, you can combine them freely. Drunken sword is more difficult, though, because Fang Zong has sword energy, and you need to integrate the sword energy with your swordsmanship.
When Lin Qiaoyu learned that Fang Zong possessed sword energy, her calm eyes became unfocused for the first time.
"You bastard!"
Lin Qiaoyu said dryly, "When I was alive, I was a lay disciple of Dongcheng Mountain. I practiced swordsmanship for twenty years, practiced internal energy for nine years, and worked as a kung fu actress for eighteen years. I have no sword energy."
Fang Zong smiled and said, "I'm so embarrassed. I always touch directly."
Under Lin Qiaoyu's guidance, Fang Zong began to wield the Drunken Sword, his feet moving like a monkey's and his elbows like scooping up the moon. At the same time, he guided the energy within his body, controlling the sword energy and circulating it throughout his body.
The first time, I felt a pain inside my body, like being stabbed by swords;
The second time, the pain from circulating the sword energy was much less, and Fang Zong felt a significant change in his body.
A sharp sword flashed across the sky, and a silver-white sword aura shot out, the light and the blade reflecting each other, like two crescent moons connected together, sweeping away everything.
But suddenly, Fang Zong was dumbfounded.
Drunken Sword, Bright Silver Sword Qi?
Something doesn't feel right.
Blink your eyes... Damn it!
...
For the next ten days or so, Fang Zong was overjoyed.
He became the chief agent in the medical field, and all kinds of high-tech medical materials piled up like mountains. He was overjoyed to learn them, and he put aside the fact that he hadn't been able to grasp medical skills recently.
Such a fulfilling life!
Absolutely satisfying!
2019.
Day N of the New Year!
Fang Zong usually studied the materials and then practiced the Three-Five-Eight Grappling Techniques. Before he could practice his swordplay, his phone suddenly rang.
It wasn't a phone call, it was a message.
The message was simple, just two words: Come quickly!
Then, the helicopter flew over.
Fang Zong was dumbfounded; this treatment...
The San Francisco Tower, the tallest and most expensive building in the western United States, has metal awnings on each floor that move around all day to maximize light and prevent the sun from overheating. At first glance, it looks like a cage made of glass and metal.
At the top floor, the helicopter landed on the helipad. Fang Zong got off the helicopter and saw two neat rows of people.
Walk along the middle path until you reach the conference room.
"Hey, Fang, long time no see."
The conference room door closed, and Peter stood up. He was the only person in the large conference room.
He poured coffee for Fang Zong himself and said with a smile, "This is your first high-level meeting since you were promoted to chief agent, so you can't be late. That's why I used a tiny bit of my privilege, not much, just a tiny bit."
Fang Zong smiled, indicating that he appreciated the gesture.
Flying in the city is not that simple. The flight time and route are planned. If someone picks you up unexpectedly, they must have used the FBI's emergency operation privileges.
The matter may seem trivial, but if someone holds onto it and doesn't let it go, it's not something that can be easily overlooked; it constitutes an abuse of power.
Honestly, Peter was really good to him.
but……
“You know Peter, I’ll be getting my diploma soon,” Fang Zong said, putting down his coffee.
"Hey, what's the point of saying all this? This is a big operation. I've been preparing for over ten days, but we'll talk about it later. The other supervisors and agents haven't arrived yet... Oh, by the way, there's a boxing ring over there. Shall we brothers have a spar?"
Fang Zong: ...You fucking change the subject!
Half an hour later, Fang Zongzhi came out triumphantly, while Peter, unable to use spider silk, was naturally bruised and battered.
Fang Zong took a sip of coffee, rubbed his fists, and felt completely refreshed.
Whew, that feels so good!
Twenty derailment collisions, I'm exhausted too, okay?
At that moment, the conference room door opened, and more than a dozen people walked in.
Everyone took their seats in turn. Below Peter, at the head of the table, was Lux. She moved to a seat outside the table, and the other person nodded with a smile.
Fang Zong returned a smile, but then sat at the very back.
Peter's face darkened, his nose bruised and swollen. He glanced at Fang Zong, gave him a very amiable smile, and then his expression turned fierce when he looked at Lux and the other supervisors and agents below.
Everyone fell silent, their expressions resentful.
Isn't this blatant discrimination?
The supervising agents were secretly plotting something, glancing at Fang Zong.
Peter then launched into a serious statement: "We've been preparing for thirteen days, and everything is ready, all to eliminate the biggest threat to our jurisdiction. Of the four major threats, it's been confirmed that the third-ranked Green Hat Water Ghost is no longer in the San Francisco area, and the number one threat, Mysterious Guest, has also been located, but he's not our target!"
"Yes, sir!" The supervising agents all straightened their backs.
Peter added, "This battle is not for honor, but for revenge. We must annihilate that harlot and that playboy."
Suddenly, he stood up, punched a hole through the solid wood conference table, and declared emphatically, "No way is impossible to courage!"
Including Lux, more than a dozen senior agents all stood up.
With unwavering resolve and a death wish, they declared, their faces contorted with rage, "No way is impossible to courage!"
Fang Zong also stood up, then sat down again.
He stroked his chin and sighed secretly, sounding somewhat bored.
Is there no road that cannot be paved for the brave?
In other words, the brave are fearless and undaunted by death?
This is so sour... You guys must have misunderstood!
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