Alex froze, a tableau of unexpected chaos unfolding before his eyes. The sterile efficiency of his world shattered in an instant. The dimly lit living room held Wu Xiufan at its center, his face etched with a concern deeper than anything Alex had witnessed before. The butler, Fei Lin, a man usually calm and composed, spoke with a frantic urgency as he addressed a figure unlike any Alex had encountered in the mansion.
This newcomer, a man seemingly woven from ice and silk, exuded an aura of power that sent chills down Alex's spine. Tall and impeccably dressed, his face, though handsome, held a coldness that could curdle blood. Beside them, on the plush sofa, lay two young men in uniforms – a stark contrast to the opulent surroundings. One held his arm, hastily bandaged and stained crimson with fresh blood. The other, pale and still, cradled his right foot in obvious agony.
