Five Mile Street's Jade Grand Hotel.
Inside a suite.
Tobacco embers flickered on and off in the gloom.
Cold sweat seeped down the bony man's bare back as he mechanically stubbed out his cigarette in a ceramic ashtray heaped with ashes.
His eyes remained fixed on the phone on the table.
Twilight leaking through the blinds slashed across the room like blades, illuminating the enormous cube standing in the corner.
Its outline rose and fell faintly beneath layers of industrial tape. From time to time, tiny frictional sounds came from beneath the black film wrapped around it like a shroud, mixed with noises resembling insects gnawing at wood.
At last
After all his agonizing wait,
the phone finally rang.
"."
He was merely answering a call, yet the man looked delighted and respectful.
"Yes, we're ready. Eighteen in total. They've all been kept alive and starved for three days. They're absolutely at their peak now!!"
"."
"The elders are ready as well. This descent-of-the-god operation absolutely won't fail!!"
"."
Only after hanging up did the man put away his obsequious expression.
He sat back down in his chair.
He picked up a photograph from the table and studied it for two seconds.
Then he murmured,
"Fang Qingyu."
The same hotel.
Inside the top-floor ballroom.
Moving, incomprehensible classical music was being performed onstage.
Beneath the crystal chandeliers, dark-patterned suits and satin skirts mingled together.
The men gently encircled the women's waists with their right hands, stepping in precise dance patterns to the rise and fall of the orchestra. They looked exceptionally elegant.
About a hundred meters from the front of the stage,
Fang Qingyu stood alone beside a table, stuffing himself with the food while watching Lin Wanqing in the distance.
As her personal bodyguard,
having his employer attend school was