The newcomer stood tall in a charcoal suit, the night breeze barely stirring his neatly combed hair. His eyes, cold and unreadable, shifted first to the bloodied young man sprawled on the ground.
"Still breathing," he murmured, his voice as smooth as glass.
Only then did his gaze slide toward the assassin.
The attacker's eyes went wide behind the clown mask. He fought to turn his head, feeling his entire body so heavy under the pressure that it took everything to even turn his head. "Wh… who… are… you?" he rasped in the end.
The suited man's tone stayed even in response, almost bored as he sounded. "Who sent you? Was it the Northern Sky Group?"
A painful shake of the assassin's head came in response. "N… no… Xiao… Estate…" The words came out broken; each syllable seemed forced.
The man tilted his head slightly. "Hmm. I see."
