"It's... you?"
In the opposite cell, Old Han slowly lifted his head.
The weathered, middle-aged man's face was streaked with dried blood and tears.
His eyes now looked utterly exhausted and resigned.
The silver light of the Star Apostle mark flickered faintly under his skin on his chest, showing he had barely succeeded the imprinting.
And the moment he saw that Li Feng had finally noticed him, Old Han's lips trembled.
Tears that had been held back for so long finally spilled over.
"...Young friend..." he rasped, his voice hoarse and broken.
Tears rolled down his wrinkled cheeks, mixing with the dried blood.
"Hic... This old man… has been calling out to you… for so long… but you never looked this way…"
His shoulders began to shook as quiet sobs escaped him.
Li Feng looked a bit awkward seeing the middle-aged man crying like this.
