The VIP room of the Bellevue Hotel shimmered with opulence. Gilded frames cradled oil paintings along the walls, and vast glass windows opened to the glittering sprawl of Herriond's capital below.
A marble dining table stood at the center, its dark wood edges brushed with gold, silver cutlery gleaming like starlight beneath the chandeliers.
At the entrance, Zhao Li Xin stepped into the restaurant at a calm, unhurried pace. Though dressed in nothing more than a simple tailored black tunic suit, he carried it with a presence that bent the atmosphere to his will.
His height and sculpted features gave him the imposing beauty of a figure cut from legend, while the chill in his expression warned against approaching too closely.