Chris Fern put his hand into his coat pocket.
He too had a handgun in his coat pocket.
As their eyes met, the air filled with the intense smell of gunpowder, always on the brink of ignition.
Charles Mcintosh stopped in his tracks when he was ten meters away.
Chris Fern was stuck in the underground passage, having nowhere to run or hide.
The whole space felt oppressive and cramped, with a damp smell permeating the atmosphere.
"Charles? What a surprise, you and Mr. Cheney are back, huh?" Chris Fern narrowed his eyes and spoke calmly.
Underneath his mask, his facial expression seemed ambiguous.
Charles laughed coldly, his face showing an indifferent expression.
"You didn't expect both Mr. Cheney and I to return alive, did you?"
"It's a blessing to have returned," Chris Fern responded with a cool voice.
"Chris Fern, are you here to take everything that belongs to Mr. Cheney? Unfortunately for you, the key in your hand, it's no use." Charles scoffed.
