"Boss," the young man murmured, keeping his head lowered in a mix of fear and respect. He lacked the courage to lift his gaze and take in the awe-inspiring sight that lay before him.
"Where?" replied the middle-aged man, his words punctuated by a brief pause as he reluctantly disengaged from the company of the beauties surrounding him, leaving a thin strand of saliva connecting their lips.
"In the Military District, sir," the young man answered, his voice tinged with unease. "He was escorted by the Guardian himself, accompanied by a contingent of heavily armed soldiers."
"If that boy has arrived..." The middle-aged man's sentence trailed off, his voice filled with a foreboding undertone. In one of his hands, a ripple of energy suddenly materialized, casting a dark shadow that shot forth with a swift, menacing trajectory.
In the next instant, the young man's vision blurred. He felt no immediate pain, yet blood erupted from his chest, staining the air with crimson.
