Timing his steps to the beat of his heart, Noah arrived at the pearl curtain. He used a hand to part it and saw two men dragging the poor man from earlier. Blood smeared on the floor, letting Noah know that the man was either severely injured or plain dead.
His eyes then crawled to the side where the lounge paved bigger than it looked from outside. Guards were standing around the couch where a middle-aged man was seated.
He had salt and pepper hair while sporting a white sleek mustache. He was wearing a pair of white suit and pants, but specks of blood were on his shirt.
With his hand gestures, he called for Noah. When the latter walked in, the guards eyed at him as if they were machine scanners looking for guns. One even went behind Noah and patted him down for anything, which seemed unnecessary with the way he wore his clothes.
"Come here, sit down. Don't be scared." The target smiled and patted his lap.
