The third floor of the Red Eyes Club was off-limits to ordinary people.
The few mysterious figures who usually had the right to go up to the third floor were regulars at the Red Eyes Club. They enjoyed absolute privileges in the bar and possessed a deadly charm. They could always easily accomplish things that ordinary drinkers found unbelievable, and they could always hook whichever prey they took a fancy to—sometimes women, sometimes men.
In this city, the Red Eyes Club was a bar shrouded in mystery.
And within this bar, these people were the most mysterious beings of all.
Yet today, on a Friday when they would normally all appear, drive the drinkers wild, and spend an unforgettable night, not one of them had shown up on the first floor. Instead, they had gathered neatly in the luxurious, exquisitely furnished lounge on the bar's third floor.
Usually mysterious and confident in other people's eyes, they all wore grave expressions now.
Some sat, some stood, and all stared blankly at the coffin placed on the expensive carpet in the middle of the lounge.
It should be called a coffin, at least. Although it was merely a large cardboard box, it had been sealed tightly. The plastic tape had now been torn open, revealing the person inside. Blood had seeped out of the box and soaked the exquisite carpet.
The air seemed frozen.
Everyone present stared fixedly at the person inside the box. For a long time, not one breath could be heard.
Their faces showed all kinds of emotions—anger, shock, disgust, fear, and more—but the one thing they shared was the intensity of every expression, each carrying a force that struck straight at the heart. Anyone who saw their closest companion suddenly delivered before them in such a state would