On the Flying Dragon drifting in the unknown deep space, the mature and beautiful "T-Rex" glanced discontentedly at the Falcon over there, "Can you pay attention to your image?"
The Falcon couldn't care less about picking up the fallen cigar.
He excitedly dodged the camera, then looked at the only woman on the ship, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, unable to utter a word, only one hand continuously clenching a fist.
This strange posture left the nearby Tank a bit puzzled, his heavy voice rumbling as he frowned and asked, "What's wrong, boss?"
"Oh, nothing, I'm just venting my excitement."
Waving his hand, the Falcon sat back in front of the camera indifferently.
Rubbing his face, he spoke solemnly, "Old buddy, do you know why I'm contacting you?"
Clifford saw Falcon's serious expression, furrowed his brow in thought for a moment, then suddenly raised an eyebrow and exclaimed in shock, "Could it be..."
