Helios didn't earn the moniker of 'The Golden Dragon' solely based upon the color of his scales.
He was called golden for his dignified and regal aura, as well as his tastes.
It wasn't a bias that he was aware of, but after thousands of years of ruling as king to the most powerful nation in Dola, he had grown accustomed to only experiencing the best.
And now, as he stood in front of the place where Hajun had told him to meet, he felt for the first time in a long time a feeling of absurdity.
'This place is beneath me...'
Helios was staring at a small, greasy looking diner.
It didn't look like any sort of reputable establishment, nor did it seem dignified by any stretch of the imagination.
But he could already sense those who he had come here for inside.
Suddenly, the door was flung open and a man came outside smoking a cigarette.
