In the empty subway car, only Ferguson and Bologue remained. The carriage swayed slightly, and the two locked eyes, the atmosphere tense and oppressive, like a drawn sword.
"Strange...how did you find me?"
Ferguson asked puzzledly. According to the intelligence, Bologue shouldn't have had the means to track him.
Bologue didn't bother to hide it. He raised his hand, showing a silver thread wrapped around his fingertip, lighter than a strand of hair. If Bologue hadn't deliberately shown it, Ferguson would never have perceived its existence.
As Bologue waved his hand to stir the silver threads, the air was filled with countless intertwined silver threads dancing wildly. Ferguson looked down to find a silver thread wrapped around his ankle at some point.
