What could it be?
Shawn frowned deeply, and as he looked up ahead, he couldn't help but freeze for a moment.
Hank.
The heavy rain outside had stopped, and at the corner of the stairs, in the darkness of the shadows, Hank stood smoking in the corner. Smoke swirled around, obscuring his face. It seemed as if he was waiting for Shawn here, because as soon as Shawn stepped out of the underground corridor, Hank immediately lifted his head.
"Hank?"
Shawn looked at the exhausted middle-aged man ahead, and with a slightly puzzled expression, said, "Weren't you chasing those cultists?"
"Why are you here?"
Hank had been hunting those cultists for nearly a week, and he shouldn't suddenly return at this time unless he encountered some trouble.
Smoke swirled in the shadows.
