Inside the second district, morning light filtered through ornate windows as Han Wei stood triumphant, his boot pressing down on Hong Wei's face.
The sixteen-year-old orphan lay sprawled across imported marble, his face full of bruises and cuts. The sole survivor of the orphanage fire had been questioned all night about his connection to Ethan.
"So? Do you understand what I said or not?" Han Wei's voice carried the cruelty of someone who had never faced consequences.
Hong Wei nodded weakly, blood trickling from his split lip. "Alright."
"Good," Han Wei smiled, gesturing to the healer standing nearby. "Heal him, keep him brand new. Then take him back to the third district and proceed with the plans."
Feng bowed deeply, but hesitation flickered across his face. "But young master, the city has been thrown into chaos, and the monster horde might attack at any moment. I think we should delay it a little. What do you think?"
