John Brown loosened his grip, and the person in his hand immediately collapsed onto the ground. John Brown himself, however, turned around with difficulty, his face twisted, one hand instinctively reaching behind him as though trying to draw out the dagger.
A figure slowly emerged from the shadows of the bar. Standing over six feet tall, with blonde hair, a bulky build, and eyes filled with the same look of hatred.
John had seen this person before—back when he was with Emily Lopez visiting that upscale neighborhood. He had noticed the foreign blonde man then, finding him vaguely familiar but unable to recall who he was at the time. Later, after his ambush, John had suspected this man and tried to track him down, but failed to locate him.
"Who… are you?" John forced a few words through gritted teeth, the muscles on his face twisting again, as though struggling to muster another breath.
