Chapter 77
In the North District
A sleek black luxury sedan pulled up in front of a high-end hotel—its polished surface reflecting the neon lights like liquid ink.
The engine purred softly before shutting off with precision.
The doors opened with a gentle hiss.
A man stepped out.
Tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a tailored black coat that clung to his powerful frame.
His physique was carved from years of ruthless discipline—lean muscle, compact power.
He moved with the confidence of someone used to danger, someone who didn't ask for permission, only results.
His hair was deep crimson, striking even in the dim light, and his eyes—red as burning coals—flicked up to the building like they could see through its walls.
He stared at it in silence for a moment, then exhaled.
Not out of fear. Something else.
A storm brewing behind calm eyes. Conflict, maybe even regret. But only for a second.
Then he entered.
