YANG LUJIA CAME in front of the Competitions Bureau in the middle of the night. Although a few people were walking past him on the streets, they could not see his appearance. He was just an illusory figure blending in with the night.
Like a chameleon, he camouflaged and took steps to reach the main door of the bureau. Even though he wanted to keep a low profile, he did not want his pride to be stepped on by others. Thus, with his style, he would strike when the situation called for him to.
Enveloping the whole bureau with a layer of protective silvery aura, time and space rules hovered in the air as the whole bureau disappeared from the eyes of everyone watching.
An old man, pushing his wooden cart on the streets, noticed the changes in the bureau. He stared at the people on the street because such an event was quite strange. Nevertheless, he continued pushing his cart after noticing the people's gaze was not on the bureau.