The iron table scraped against the ground, making a harsh noise.
An assessment form with a red stamp was slapped in front of Lin Ye.
"This month's quota has not been met. Your anti-venom quota will be cancelled."
Chris leaned back in his chair.
Pale fingers tapped on the table.
The air in the settlement room on the ground floor of Hongyue Pharmaceutical is dull.
Disinfectant water mixed with rancid smell circulated in the closed space.
The dozen or so hunters in line fell silent instantly.
Several people exchanged glances with each other and shrank back.
No one dares to get into trouble at this time.
