No one knew how much time had passed.
The second-floor storage room of Cat Boss Restaurant was rather dim. A few faint rays of light by the window barely pierced the thick curtain of rain and drapes, casting scattered patches of light across the floor.
It did not resemble a traditional storeroom. It was more like a hidden secret chamber. The room relied on only a few dim yellow pendant lamps for illumination, and every sturdy wooden plank looked heavy and enduring.
At the center of the room, a man was tied to an iron chair. His body leaned forward, his head hung slightly, and his eyes were tightly shut. His cheeks were pale, and his hands and feet were firmly bound with tough ropes. He wore dark clothing, and under the dim light, the dust on it was clearly visible, as if he had been dragged across the ground.
When the door was shut again, the entire storeroom sank into a profound silence. Only the faint sound of rain continued to tap against the window, pattering incessantly like a ceaseless lullaby.
The storeroom remained in that unchanging state.
"..."
That was, until Phoenix's brows finally began to furrow and his eyelashes trembled slightly—the signs that he was regaining consciousness.
The corners of his mouth twisted, and a low growl escaped his throat, as if he were suffering from some kind of torment.
He tried to remember, but his mind held only foggy, indistinct memories, leaving him utterly exhausted.
Then Phoenix slowly opened his previously shut eyes, revealing a cold, sharp gaze.
He felt the hard wooden chair supporting his back. His hands were tightly locked to the armrests with cold handcuffs. As he tried to sort out his situation, what filled him even more was anger and indignation.
The