Clara Hale looked at the soaring flames from the truck, her lips twitched slightly.
Has the mansion really been burned?
Relentless and crazy, isn't that exactly someone like her?
He silently shrank his neck, he must never make her angry again, otherwise he might not even have bones left.
Amidst this sky-high fire, a figure bloomed in front of the twisted flames, coming slowly.
The black trench coat was torn apart in the hot airflow, flying fiercely in the air.
Such strong colors, such overwhelming power, seemed to be mere accessories for her.
Clara Hale stared for a moment, only responding after a long time.
By the time she reacted, she was already sitting in the car.
He leaned lazily back, a slight smile tugging at his lips, this sort of feeling didn't seem so bad.
He asked indifferently, "Where are we going now?"
Quiana Sutton replied, "Back to Scavilla City."
...
