Meanwhile, earlier...
Walking through the street was Mo Fan, his posture carrying a reflection of his inner emotion — annoyance — as he carried out his assigned task.
The night breeze was cool against his face, but it did nothing to soothe his wounded pride, nor cool his temper. Street lamps cast long shadows as he moved, his footsteps heavy and echoing at every step he took.
The FSG were taking Ryder's case quite seriously, and their collaboration with multiple capable guilds and anomalies was enough evidence of just how dangerous they considered the situation.
The Red-Eastern guild head, the silver-gaze possessor, and who knows how many more skilled hunters had been called in — all for one hooded troublemaker called Ryder.
"A demon plane contractor," Mo Fan scoffed, kicking a small stone out of his path with unnecessary force. "As if we haven't dealt with worse before."
