The seventh floor was the top floor.
Xu Shu reached the stairwell and discovered that at the other end of the corridor, by the window, there were two brawny men armed to the teeth, standing guard.
One was lighting a cigarette, the other was scratching an itch, both were yawning in turns.
It was almost 2 a.m., the time when most people would feel the sleepiest in their day, and these guards, who had been vigilant until this moment, were looking for something stimulating to keep themselves awake.
Xu Shu fell silent for a moment, then peeled a ceramic tile off the wall, breaking it into two fist-sized pieces.
He took aim and, with a whoosh-whooosh, hurled the stones through the air. Despite the distance of sixty to seventy meters, they hit the two brawny men squarely in the forehead, piercing their skulls.
Without uttering a cry, they died effortlessly, collapsing lifelessly to the ground.
"It seems they're not Transcendents."
