Western Europe.
Len Hawthorne appeared in front of a wild forest.
Looking at the marshland ahead, his phoenix eyes narrowed slightly, and a blade-like hurricane radiated around him.
He then controlled it with his mind and swept it out.
"Plop, plop, plop..."
The marshland was in a mess.
The figure behind the forest darted away.
It took him a long time to finally catch someone, and he wasn't going to let them get away so easily.
Len Hawthorne's sharp pursuit was too much for the millennia-old Zimmer family leader.
He couldn't understand how such a young man in his early twenties could have such a staggering ability.
That camouflage uniform was so righteous it made people sick.
The coldness on his chiseled and handsome face.
With no more smiles as in the past, this seductive face has another flavor.
"You're good at hiding."
As soon as Len Hawthorne finished speaking, he followed the figure.
