Master Sung cleaned his hands on a piece of rag, the cloth soaking up the crimson remnants of Falcon Guild members' blood on his hands.
As he used the cloth to clean between his fingers, removing the last traces of blood from his skin, Master Sung's attention was drawn upward by a sound that made his gaze intensify coldly—laughter echoing through the night air.
The sound was unmistakable, carrying with it years of bitter memories, and a familiarity that no amount of time or distance could erase.
It was the same laugh that had once filled their childhood home, the same laugh that had turned mocking and cruel as they grew older and chose different paths.
Without a shadow of doubt clouding his mind, Master Sung knew for certain who it was. Yuki.
