The bunker under the garage was stark—concrete walls, a single overhead light casting a harsh circle in the center. Shadows clung to the corners like silent observers. The only sound was the heavy and raspy breathing of the man captured.
The man sat slouched in a metal chair, his wrists tied to the chair, oozing with more blood. Sweat beaded at his brow despite the chill in the air. He was bleeding profusely, and even he was surprised death hadn't taken him yet.
Across from him, Yue Ling stood without batting an eye. Calm. Poised. Her arms were at her side, her expression unreadable.
However, at a closer look, one could see blood staining her hands.
She stepped forward, and the man trembled with fear with each step she took.
He has been part of the underworld for years and has never encountered someone so ruthless. He thought Yue Ling was an average rich person, but he was wrong.
