The silent overpass was filled with nothing but the roaring sound of rainwater.
The endless downpour seemed to peel this place away from the mortal world, cutting off everything, devouring the whole world.
"So this is what you look like."
Huai Shi opened the car door, gazing at the old man inside. He ignored the handgun pointed at his face and surveyed him seriously. The man's mottled white hair was meticulous, his expression dignified, and his suit crisp. He looked as if he had just stepped down from a podium.
"Really… quite a respectable face."
Huai Shi pushed aside the slightly trembling handgun and, soaked, sat down in the car opposite Qi Wen. His clothes, drenched with rain and blood, left stains on the genuine leather sofa.
Rich people have it good.
Glancing around the intricately decorated, spacious car interior, he looked down at the soft carpet beneath his feet and the black footprints he had left. He smacked his lips and asked, "Got a smoke?"
