After Claud Stuart left, a red shadow flickered across the rooftop.
The figure stared blankly in the direction he left, its eyes dark and unfathomable, inexplicably making one shudder.
Upon closer inspection, it seemed to be a woman with a ghastly appearance.
Bloodied from head to toe, her face was so blurry that there wasn't a single piece of intact flesh, and even her basic facial features were unclear.
Claud Stuart slammed open the private room door and saw a familiar group of people inside. His heart finally settled back into his stomach.
He weakly walked to the sofa, leaned on it and stared intently at the ceiling.
Seeing this, another man sitting nearby raised an eyebrow in confusion, picked up a cup of wine, swirled it a few times, and then finished it in one gulp.
"Claud, what's the matter? Your forehead is full of sweat. Were you chased by a ghost?"
An offhand remark elicited a response from Claud Stuart.
