"Who was the big mouth this time?" Kyle Shina asked, his voice cold yet dripping with amusement as he strode through the dimly lit corridor. His assistant, Julie, followed closely beside him, her heels clicking rhythmically against the polished stone floor. The corridor was long and narrow, barely wide enough for three people to pass shoulder to shoulder. The walls, sleek and reflective like polished obsidian, stretched endlessly in either direction, casting back distorted, shimmering reflections of their figures. The air was heavy with a mix of dampness and the faint metallic tang of blood, hinting at the sinister operations housed within these walls.
Julie glanced at Kyle, her face expressionless but sharp, as she straightened her tight skirt and adjusted the collar of her neat blouse. "We don't have an ID yet, sir," she replied crisply. "But we've released the hunting dogs. Whoever they are, they won't be hard to find."
