Boom!
With a deafening crash, the steel gates of the Platinum Tower flew open. The Iron-Masked Man charged forward with both hands protecting his head and vital points, but the ambush and explosion he had expected never came. The entire first floor was quiet and dim. The towering bookshelves stretched the faint light from the wall lamps into long shadows that looked like guards—and gravestones.
The gunfire outside briefly stopped, and the attackers quickly rushed into the Platinum Tower to regroup. By the time they neared the entrance, the gunners guarding the main door had already scattered, and the attackers had no intention of pursuing them—their objective was right before their eyes, and they knew which mattered more.
Smack!
When the steel gates slammed shut, the Grand Steward casually pulled a book from the shelf, lit a lighter, and glanced at it. "'Illustrated Guide to Ancient Dragons'? Quite a rare treasure, but there are probably only a handful of the dragon beasts recorded inside left in the world. After a few decades, perhaps no one will even believe that ancient dragons ever existed... Keeping it is useless."
He set the book alight and shoved it back into the shelf. The weather was dry around the Mid-Autumn Festival, and the bookshelf quickly caught fire. The blazing flames devoured the entire shelf, illuminating the dim hall on the first floor.
"Any casualties?" the Grand Steward asked.
"Two dead," someone from the Brotherhood said. "One was one of your people, and the other was our 'Heavy Drinker.' He didn't dodge in time and took a shot to the head. He collapsed unconscious."
With Wei Weiwei and the Flame Command operatives outside, anyone shot in the head and knocked unconscious was essentially doomed.
Le Yu swept his gaze around and discovered that the Curse