What do you know about the egg?

The three off-road jeeps swerved in front of them, blocking every direction and cutting off their path.

The doors slammed open, and a dozen foul-looking men spilled out, each armed with firearms, grenades, and even an RPG launcher.

At the head of the pack stood Big Fang—a hulking brute much like his brother, with greasy hair sticking to the sides of his face. He reeked of dried sweat and rotten blood, his shrewd eyes locking onto Nanzhi like a snake spotting fresh prey.

"Ain't this a lucky find?" he drawled, spitting onto the ground. "Pretty little things waltzin' through our street like they own the place."

His men sneered and chuckled, their gazes full of filth.

"Boss, look at 'em," one of them leered. "Except for a few green drops, I haven't seen women this clean since after the apocalypse."

"Yeah, and look at that one," another thug laughed, nodding toward Nanzhi. "Tch, such a cold beauty. I bet she'd look even better when she's crying—"