The Kuang Lan Alliance envoy led the group through a long corridor.
Thick bulletproof glass lined both sides of the corridor, beyond which lay New York's bustling nightscape. Neon lights refracted through the rain-washed air, casting dazzling halos of color.
A deep red carpet covered the floor, soft and soundless beneath their feet, while the overhead lights were gentle and non-glaring.
Xia Yuan walked with both hands tucked into his cloak pockets, his dead-fish eyes half-lidded and his bald head gleaming beneath the lights.
He yawned as he walked, his earth-yellow cloak dragging behind him, its edges soaked by the rain and hanging heavily.
Mo Shiyu walked beside him, traces of rain still lingering on the shoulders of her white T-shirt.
From time to time, she glanced around and silently prayed, Please don't let anything else go wrong today.
However, fate seemed to enjoy making jokes at her expense.
As the two reached the middle of the corridor, Xia Yuan caught sight of a small figure beside them, following the group at an unhurried pace.
It was a little girl who looked to be only around ten years old.
She wore a black dress that fell to her knees, and her little black leather shoes made crisp tapping sounds as she walked.
Her golden hair was tied into twin ponytails that hung on either side of her shoulders, their ends curling slightly.
Her features were as exquisite as a doll's, with fair skin and delicate, compact facial features.
Her large eyes in particular were watery and clear, carrying an innocent, untainted purity.
But what struck Xia Yuan as strange was that this little girl's destination also seemed to be the meeting hall ahead.
That was where humanity's strongest UR Contract Spirits had gathered. Whether for security or etiquette, it was