At first, what sounded was a muffled peal of thunder.
Since morning, the clouds blanketing the entire Ash Port had gradually darkened, like a slab of lead pressing heavily upon everyone's hearts, leaving them unable to breathe.
In the stifling heat, even opening the windows only brought in thick, damp air, making people feel like patches of mold spreading through cracks.
The ceiling fan spun overhead, while the television in the room continued broadcasting news of Seven Cities suffering an unknown attack...
"Ha, it's Brother Zong!"
The gum-chewing man on the huge leather sofa beamed as he pointed at the flames rising amid the dense fog. "It's definitely Brother Zong's handiwork! See what I told you? Once Sixth Master made his move, Ling Shuo, that traitorous bastard, was dead for sure... In a few days, at the victory banquet, we'll all get another red envelope!
Hey, Sinclair. Hey, are you listening?"
"Huh? I... what did you just say?"
The young man staring blankly by the window turned around, looking utterly distracted. He was about to speak when, without warning, he heard a loud explosion from outside the window. BOOM!!
Ash Port shuddered, and even the windows shook with a buzzing rattle.
Sinclair's face went pale in an instant. He jumped up instinctively. "They fired cannons? Seven... Seven Cities attacked?"
"Fuck, that was thunder!"
Parsent rolled his eyes impatiently. "Stop fucking scaring yourself. Good thing Brother Zong isn't here—if he saw you acting this pathetic, he might fucking punch you twice first!
You just got promoted. Show some backbone!
When you were doing jobs for the gang before, weren't you pretty tough when you stabbed A-Qi to death?"
"...I... I just ran into him..."
Sinclair opened his mouth to explain. "I just saw him standing there... so I... I didn't even