Satoru Gojo looked up at the sky and clicked his tongue. "Wait a little longer."
A trace of confusion flashed through Zengger's single eye.
At that moment, the sand and grass clippings whipped up by the hovering aircraft's propellers suddenly settled.
A figure had appeared at the edge of the training field at some point and was now walking over slowly.
Chen Tian's steps were unhurried, as though the chaotic field beneath his feet were not a training ground but a palace draped in red carpets.
The hem of his black trench coat fell to his calves, remaining perfectly still in the gale stirred up by the turboprops. Only near the very edge did a faint current lift it into a barely noticeable ripple.
The high collar fit perfectly against the lines of his neck, exuding an immaculate, unyielding chill.
The coat hung open, revealing a fitted dark-blue tactical vest beneath it. Its rigid lines outlined the lean contours of his powerful torso.
His straight black trousers disappeared into knee-high black leather boots. As the soles crossed the grass, they made a steady, even, faint sound.
Chen Tian kept his eyes straight ahead and walked directly over. As he passed Satoru Gojo, Gojo was waving enthusiastically, his voice rising. "Nero! Over here!"
Chen Tian did not shift even the slightest bit of his peripheral vision. His steps did not falter as he brushed past Gojo's shoulder.
He walked straight toward the open rear hatch of the aircraft. As he climbed the steps, the hem of his trench coat swept out in a clean blue arc, and his figure vanished into the dim light inside.
Zengger's single pupil contracted.
Sunlight fell upon the man's coat, yet it seemed to have its warmth devoured by some invisible force, leaving only a cold