anwhile.
On the other side of Yluria Country, it’s dusk, the orange sunset about to sink below the horizon, casting a golden afterglow over all the buildings.
During peak hours after work, people hurriedly crowded the streets, with restaurants and hospitals being the busiest places filled with bustling crowds.
However, a private clinic located in the eastern part of the city was not so lively. The quiet two-story villa bathed in the golden sunset, with flowers blooming in the garden, shining brightly. The roses gave off an intoxicating fragrance as they vied to bloom, along with lush green lawns, everything was full of vitality.
But this beautiful place was now filled with the sll of blood, as muffled gunshots dyed the pretty villa red with crimson blood.
Several tattooed n in black, ard with guns, escorted a man out of the car. The man was wearing a flamboyant shirt, whose greasy style betrayed his otherwise handso face. He wore a Patek Philippe watch on his wrist, decked out in branded items from head to toe, as if piling expensive things on himself was the only way to demonstrate his status. Yet unbeknownst to him, it was precisely this that laid bare his inner insecurity and anxiety.
"Young Master, Young Master Lyle is inside. The doctor has already confessed; two days ago, a man took over his clinic. From his description, that person is highly likely to be Young Master Lyle. When we went in to search just now, we found so of Young Master Lyle’s n, and they’re all taken care of now."
"Oh, handled cleanly?" Howe Westbrook grinned, nonchalantly twirling the watch on his wrist.
"Rest assured, Young Master, everything’s handled cleanly. There shouldn’t be any scurrying rats inside now!" He referred to Lyle Westbrook’s n as rats.
Howe Westbrook liked the taphor, reaching out, teasingly tapping the man’s face with satisfaction, "Very good, smooth talker. Stick with , and once I deal with these annoying rats, you’ll get your chance!"
The man, humiliated by the tap, still displayed delight, continuously thanking him, "Thank you, Young Master. Thank you, Young Master. I’ll definitely stick with you; even if you ask to go through mountains of knives and seas of flas, I won’t bat an eye."
"Whether you bat an eye or not will only be seen when you’re facing those knives and flas. Right now, it’s all on your words." Howe Westbrook said indifferently.
The man imdiately pledged, "Rest assured, Young Master, I’ll be loyal to you, absolutely not just words!"
"Alright." Howe Westbrook showed little interest in him, rely appreciating his smooth talk and thus engaging in brief conversation. All his attention was now on the person hidden in the clinic, just thinking of his annoying brother lying inside awaiting his disposition made his blood involuntarily boil, "Co on, take up. It’s been a while since I’ve seen my brother. My brother t with a car accident, as a brother, I should show so care."
"Young Master has such a good heart, Young Master Lyle will surely be moved if he knows." The man complinted wholeheartedly, then signaled to others to lead the way.
Two gun-wielding n in black walked ahead while the man alongside Howe Westbrook said respectfully, "Young Master, please proceed inside."
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