Cheng Han had always believed that a script with only a single narrative thread could never support a grand spectacle, nor could it portray richly developed characters.
That meant it could not be considered an excellent script.
As a dramatist, he preferred multi-threaded storytelling.
The patrol zone portion of the "Vengeance Prologue" Cheng Han had written was only one part of it.
The other scenes—or rather, the other plotline—were actually unfolding elsewhere.
At this moment.
Qinglin City, South District.
A disheveled Middle-aged Man wrapped in a long coat sat on a bench in a Street Garden.
A faint, barely perceptible Blue Radiance flickered in his eyes.
The Middle-aged Man held a small cloth bag. Through its open mouth, one could see that it contained some golden millet.
"Coo~ coo~"
A flock of Pigeons stood on the snowy ground nearby, calling incessantly.
The Middle-aged Man took out a handful of millet and scattered it over the snow in front of him.
The Pigeons surged forward, scrambling to peck at the millet.
Just then.
A Black Cat padded over lightly and called out to the flock.
"Meow~"
The next instant.
A sudden change occurred.
Several Ice Spikes abruptly burst from the snow, piercing the necks of the fattest Pigeons and killing them instantly.
The remaining Pigeons seemed not to have seen a thing and continued pecking at the millet.
"Meow~"
The Black Cat happily flicked its ears.
It was saying: This cat is having roasted pigeon later!
The Middle-aged Man watched the scene and shook his head. "Man dies for wealth, birds die for food. Desire always draws moths to the flame."
He sank back into his thoughts. "If the plan goes without deviation, this dark act of vengeance should draw out an official Garrison Profound Warrior."
The Middle-aged Man glanced up