The dense Mercenary Corps convoy came to a halt on the narrow streets—every passerby had long since scattered to escape, leaving the sidewalks eerily silent.
At the forefront of the convoy, a man with short, curly brown hair rose from the passenger seat of a simple jeep. His hand rested on the ornate sword at his waist as he looked forward.
Standing alone in the center of the street, blocking the entire colossal convoy's path, was a middle-aged military officer in City Defense Army uniform, his short brown hair elegant and handsome.
The officer was none other than Wright, and the man standing atop the jeep was Captain Aber of the Mercenary Corps owned by the Mining Consortium.
Wright glanced at Aber in front of him, straightened his pristine white officer's gloves, and with a smile, he gestured invitingly,
"Captain Aber, the time is just right. How about sitting down for a cup of coffee?"
"No need."
