It was late in the evening.
The opera had ended early, and when Chen Lun left the marine pavilion with Floey, there were hardly any guests left.
The two strolled down the gravel path, flanked by artificial trees rustling in the wind.
Chen Lun suddenly stopped in his tracks.
"What's wrong?"
Floey asked, puzzled.
Chen Lun didn't make a sound but scanned the area silently. The sense of impending crisis that had suddenly arisen in his heart was still not dissipating.
Whoosh—!
The next second, a hand shot out from under his feet, grabbing at his ankle.
Chen Lun, expressionless, neither dodged nor evaded but stomped down.
Bang!!
"Ah!"
A buzzing scream followed.
The attacking hand had been stomped on and retracted.
Immediately after, a figure emerged from the ground not far in front of Chen Lun.
He was dressed in a suit, with a silver pot on his head and a silver cane in hand.
It was the mysterious society's "Gentleman."
