Chapter 283 Who Are You?
Across the video call, Eric appeared momentarily taken aback before composing himself and uttered, “I’m currently in the hotel room.”
He pivoted his phone’s camera toward Kate, revealing the room’s interior to her.
Kate breathed a sigh of relief and murmured gently. “Return quickly once your tasks are complete.
Just as Eric prepared to respond, a rap on the door interrupted him, and Lucas‘ voice sounded from beyond, “Boss, there’s another meeting awaiting your attendance.”
“I understand”
Eric replied apathetically, then with a hint of helplessness, he addressed Kate, “Kate, I must attend the meeting now.”
Kate trusted him implicitly, nodding softly. “Sure, give me a call after the meeting.”
After ending the video call, Eric’s gaze turned unexpectedly icy. He strode out briskly, and at the door, Lucas looked at him with concern and asked, “Boss, did Madam believe you?”
“Yes,” Eric responded with an icy stare.
“Proceed as scheduled.”
He strode ahead briskly, Lucas at his side, trailed by a cohort of men dressed in black. Swiftly, they piled into several waiting cars and sped off in a specific direction.
That night, Melvern City in Bastilla was destined for a restless night.
The largest underground organisation in Melvern City, Saint Falcons, was directly breached by a group of people from Haldoria!
They demolished the organisation’s bars, nightclubs, and other establishments, leaving their henchmen battered and subdued.
At this juncture, within the headquarters of the Saint Falcons, inside the Twilight Bar.
Tables, chairs, benches, the bar counter, and the liquor cabinet lay strewn across the floor in disarray. What was once a bustling and vibrant bar now lay in ruins, its patrons sprawled on the ground, moaning in pain.
Seated at the centre of the sofa was a dignified gentleman clad in a black suit. His countenance displaying an icy detachment that emitted an unmistakable aura of dominance.
Meanwhile, Ivan Wetson, the owner of the Twilight Bar and the leader of the Saint Falcons, found himself forcefully restrained by two towering bodyguards. His body and face bore the marks of recent violence, yet his gaze burned with a mixture of fury and resentment directed fiercely at the man seated before him.
Balance:
828
0
Gripping a slender yet keen dagger, he advanced methodically toward Ivan, then squatted before him, delicately pressing the dagger against the wolf head tattoo. “Are you a member of that organisation?”
The leader of the Saint Falcons is just a lackey for that organisation.”
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