Richard sensed that the location was not far from them, but it was off the main road and rather secluded. The two human radars followed the direction indicated by their senses all the way to several abandoned residential buildings awaiting demolition. The buildings looked grim and sinister, like demons baring their claws and fangs.
Crash!
A sharp crack rang out as glass shattered under the impact of something heavy. A large, pitch-black figure smashed through a window and flew out of the building, plummeting from roughly the third floor and slamming hard into the ground. Countless shards of glass fell with him, exploding across the ground like raindrops.
Judging by his appearance, he seemed to be a man—a cool-looking, muscular Black man. He was tall and powerfully built, wearing a stylish black leather trench coat over body armor made of ballistic fibers. Guns and ammunition were faintly visible beneath the coat, and he held a gleaming silver sword in one hand.
Logically speaking, though, he could not have been human—no ordinary person could fall from the third floor in that position and emerge completely unscathed. But this cool guy could. Bracing himself on his sword, he swayed as he got to his feet. The fall from the third floor seemed to have done nothing more than leave him a little dizzy. He turned and scanned the area, immediately spotting a pair of black sunglasses nearby. He walked over, picked them up, and firmly set them back on the bridge of his nose.
Richard was speechless.
So after getting thrown from the third floor, this guy's first reaction was neither to watch out for pursuers nor check his injuries, but Where the hell are my sunglasses? I need to look cool. I need to show off.
And the sun had already