Master Eight had left the underworld a long time ago, but it did not mean that he could escape from the industry's influence. He did not mind when strangers came to pay him homage, trying to befriend him. After all, more friends equaled to more connections. He did not mind it when old friends passed by to jokingly persuade him to return to the lifestyle, claiming that he had not lost his skill to old age. He could still take that as a compliment.
Bur what was with this man who suddenly showed up one day at his door, crying to him and asking for help?
On the surface, Master Eight smiled kindly and gently, but internally, he was deeply alarmed by this man's presence.
