Christopher Robinson's gaze fell on Tasker, examining him closely. "What's the meaning of this? There's suddenly a third party involved in our transaction, and it's happening on your territory. Don't you think I deserve an explanation?"
Taken aback by Christopher's direct confrontation, the other party's expression turned unsightly for a moment. "Are you implying that I'm behind this?"
"If it's not you, then did I arrange for someone to kill my own people?"
"So it's not you, then you're trying to stop me?" Christopher became increasingly aggressive.
Abandoning his previous wealthy merchant demeanor that he presented in the capital, he seemed to be influenced by the bloodshed around him, exuding a more murderous air in this hailstorm of bullets.
A gentleman?
No.
Elegant?
Go to hell!
At a critical moment of life and death, what's the point of elegance?
