Black King-Sebastian Shaw

The plane landed at San Francisco International Airport.

Chu Hang found a place to stay for a few days, waiting for the cooldown period to end.

Seven days later.

Chu Hang's psychic power spread out like an invisible tide, silently sweeping across every corner of the city with him at its center. He closed his eyes and precisely searched through millions of chaotic life signals for that unique energy frequency. Less than five minutes later, his eyelids lifted, and the corner of his mouth curved upward.

Target locked.

Downtown, at a nightclub called Midnight Paradise. The energy signature there was faint yet distinctive, like an insect that had drawn in every trace of its presence and was lying dormant.

The taxi stopped beneath a flickering neon sign. Chu Hang pushed open the door, and a rancid stench of cheap perfume, tobacco tar, and fermented liquor hit him in the face, almost suffocating him. He frowned slightly, ignored the bald bartender wiping down the counter with a filthy rag, and headed straight for the door leading backstage.

"Hey! Buddy, backstage isn't open to customers!" the bald man shouted gruffly behind him.

Chu Hang acted as though he had not heard him and pushed open the creaking door. A dim corridor stretched toward the end, with the faint sound of running water coming from somewhere ahead. He followed the sound to the innermost room and raised a hand to knock.

"Who is it?" A wary female voice sounded through the door, slightly hoarse.

"I'm looking for Angel Salvadore."

The sound of water abruptly stopped. After several seconds of dead silence, the door opened a narrow crack, and a young but guarded face peeked out. She had dark brown skin and clear emerald-green eyes, like a startled little animal.

"Who are you?"

"Charles