Chapter 252.5: Abandoned Draft
This was originally meant to be written into the main story, but after finishing it, I felt the pacing didn't fit. It wasn't suitable for padding out the main story to swindle readers, and it couldn't even count as a side story. Still, throwing away ten thousand words seemed wasteful, so I decided to put it here as a free abandoned draft.
In the gloomy, damp ghoul tunnels, an unarmed, cold-faced man dressed from head to toe in tight-fitting combat clothes stood with his arms folded, silently staring at the deep, ominous dungeon door at the end of the passage, ignoring the Star Lake Guards surrounding him and eyeing him menacingly as they guarded the key positions.
"Don't worry. Nothing will happen to that beauty," D.D said from beside a broken wooden table, boredly fanning the lamp flame. "Our boss is famous for being kind and benevolent."
"So that's why Emerald City became what it is now?" The cold-faced man didn't turn around.
D.D choked on his words.
"That's why Emerald City can still be what it is now," Paul, seated beside him while maintaining his bow, retorted coldly. "Including you, gangster punk, and your prostitute lover."
The cold-faced man said nothing, but his gaze grew colder.
"Hey, Brotherhood guy, that's a nice knife. The edge is barely rolled," Morgan said from across the room, deftly playing with an unfamiliar short blade that was plain yet quite sharp. He looked at their guest maliciously. "Who made it? Karachi or Old Gibbon?"
The cold-faced guest ignored him, focusing solely on the dungeon door.
The Star Lake Guards exchanged glances.
Unexpectedly, the cold guest looked toward the wooden table and suddenly spoke:
"You look familiar."
"Who? Me?"
D.D realized he was being addressed. He was startled, then