He was dressed in a casual shirt and pants, with casual footwear, different from most men on the beach who wore beachwear. The dimly lit beach lamps made it difficult to see his face clearly now that it was already dark.
But they could see that he was an Asian man, not from the West!
As the man approached step by step, the cold aura emanating from him grew stronger. With every step closer, Ivy Aretha felt the temperature on her body drop, and the eerie feeling of being watched all day came to the forefront of her mind.
An inexplicable fear overcame her, and Ivy involuntarily took two steps back. She wanted to call out to Michael Gordon, but he was still on the phone. The man's indifferent voice, tinged with a hint of laughter, reached her, like it was stained in blood, reeking with the stench of blood.
"Got sand all over someone's body and not planning to apologize?"
