The voice sighed from the microphone.
—Come in.—
Clack—
The soldier bastard opened the door and walked in with his comrade.
We followed behind them and stepped into the house.
A white-painted living room came into view, filled with the full furniture, assets and decorations one would find in a normal living room. There was nothing special about the sparsely furnished space, and even with that, it was still livable and comfortable, and the air here smelled of wood and sweets.
"This," The first soldier suddenly halted, turning to us as he clenched his gun tight, "Is where we part ways."
Immediately, without uttering any other words, the two soldiers walked past us, toward the door.
"Good luck, fellas." The second soldier said as he waved a hand, not turning back.
Jerry's brows furrowed as he watched them leave, and Marcus just sneered, forehead eased, an expression that mixed subtle relief and brimming, barely capped annoyance.
