Judicial Bureau.
The vehicle arrived. The door opened, and the first thing to emerge was a pair of long, slender legs clad in high heels.
Next came the coldly beautiful An Nishang, stepping slowly out of the car.
The face that could topple empires, enchant every living soul, now showed none of the seductive allure it held when kneeling before a man.
Only a coldness that kept people thousands of miles away, an aura radiating from her that made most of the Judicial Bureau's staff unable to look Director An in the eye.
Yet that face was still breathtaking—like a blossom drenched all night, blooming stunningly at dawn.
An Nishang led her people toward the prison block, running into Bode along the way.
The burly black man's modified prosthetic arm was still stained with blood and bits of flesh. Bode's men were escorting a group of old prisoners, likewise heading for the prison.
The two sides only exchanged a glance—no words passed between them.
