"Yes, yes, yes!"
"I'm from the Great Cold Country, don't kill me!"
"Spare my life! Our Great Cold Country is vast and resourceful. We can give you anything... Do you want Ghost Coins or Ghost Artifacts? As long as my country has it, we can negotiate..."
Han Sumei was so terrified she blurted out everything in a panic.
"Hmph."
"I knew it. A person from the Great Cold Country. I haven't even touched you and you're already begging for mercy. You've got no spine."
Seeing Han Sumei's pathetic display, the person hiding in the darkness let out a cold snort and slowly emerged.
With a clatter, he staggered out from behind a trash can. He wore a tattered jacket, and his greasy hair hung in matted clumps over his forehead. His murky eyes were sunken in their sockets, the whites a sickly yellow.
A dark-red chain was bound around his legs, and his withered limbs were covered in dried blood.
He looked like a stray dog chained to a trash heap—utterly pathetic.
...
