Amon followed Zhou Minhao.
Xia Mi stood at the stairwell entrance, watching the figure in the black trench coat gradually disappear into the distance. Her eyes flickered as though she had something to say, but in the end, she kept her mouth shut.
Only she and Chen Moxin remained in the stairwell. One of the motion-sensor lights went out, dimming half the corridor. Their shadows were compressed into the corner of the wall, one pale, one dark.
Chen Moxin leaned against the wall, showing no intention of leaving. His white suit looked somewhat conspicuous in the dim yellow corridor, like a sheet of white paper casually tossed into a pile of old newspapers.
He looked at Xia Mi and asked, "Which side are you with? On China's soil, the forces of Hybrids are all tangled together. Those in the open, those in the shadows—there are too many to count. But in this place... there aren't many who dare interfere."
Xia Mi smiled. "Why do I have to belong to some faction? Can't I just be doing it out of personal interest?"
After saying that, she made a ghost face at Chen Moxin. Then she turned and rushed into the torrential rain.
Raindrops as large as beans pelted the roof of the car with a loud patter. The tires rolled through standing water, sending up splashing sounds, and whenever crosswinds shoved against the vehicle, the steering wheel trembled slightly. Zhou Minhao drove steadily, both hands on the wheel, his gaze fixed ahead, neither hurried nor slow.
Amon sat in the passenger seat and turned to glance outside. Streetlights shrank into blurry dots of light behind the curtain of rain, trailing long—
Tails, like fireflies dissolved by water. The roadside trees were bent over by the wind, their branches thrashing wildly, leaves