Williams turned to the frightened but determined man, his silver gaze scrutinizing him deeply.
After a moment of silence, he spoke, his voice low and light.
"What do you want?"
Miguel flinched at the other party's calm voice, but steeled himself and replied.
"I'm going to the Red Wings' shelter. Is there a problem?"
Although he tried to suppress the trembling in his voice, he couldn't. The aura of the person before him was simply too threatening—like a cold blade pressed against the neck.
Williams nodded, then turned away. Gradually, his back faded into the mist.
"You can go."
Miguel sighed in relief after the man had disappeared. He initially thought the man was a rogue evolved, but it seemed he was part of the Red Wings, which relieved him.
He patted his chest, and stepped into the car. His son was still in the car, nervously clutching the driver's seat.
"We'll be okay."
