However, Zhao Yiming forced himself to calm down as he began to pick up on their conversation—nothing but nonsense.
"Hey, I just realized… the door wasn't even locked?" one of them said. The voice belonged to a man, probably in his mid-twenties.
"Tch! That damn Haolong always forgets shit. I swear, that man's got the IQ of a chimpanzee," another man scoffed. "You know how many times I've had to help him open his car because he left the keys inside?"
"A lot!"
Both of them burst out laughing.
Zhao Yiming narrowed his eyes. Two, there were only two of them. He could handle that.
A spark of confidence lit inside him. An idea started to form.
He quickly opened his system's shop and searched. A black ski mask. It was cheap and discreet. He bought it and pulled it over his face.
As much as he wanted to buy a weapon—a bat, a pipe, something—he stopped himself. He wasn't alone. If he pulled a bat out of nowhere in front of the girls, it would raise too many questions.
