"Please let us know if you need anything, sir," one of the hotel staff members said politely while holding the door open to the grand presidential suite.
Avendial stepped inside with an air of calm confidence.
The sun was setting beyond the expansive glass windows, casting a warm glow across the luxurious room.
The golden light danced on his silver hair, making it shimmer, while his clear blue eyes radiated a sharp presence.
"No, you may leave," he replied.
The staff, not sensing any hunger from him—given the simple fruits and assorted beverages already stocked in the refrigerator—retreated without a thought of offering him a heavier meal.
"Have a good stay, sir," they said, their voices fading away as the door closed behind them.
Once alone, Avendial moved deliberately, unbuttoning his suit and shrugging it off.
He pulled out a handkerchief, which held within it an empty capsule stained with remnants of black blood.
