Sure enough, someone was braving the cold night, gliding toward them on a wooden board.
"Hey there. Is this Logan Langdon's raft? Could you ask him to come out?"
In the dead of night, the raft's outdoor solar lamp was as conspicuous as a searchlight.
Faye Yardley stared at the visitor, who was bundled up thickly against the cold. "This isn't Logan Langdon's raft. His is further in that direction. At your current speed, you should see it in about fifteen to twenty minutes."
"Oh? Ah, thanks." The man couldn't help but take another look at the two of them. Their backs were to the light, so he couldn't see their faces clearly, but he could sense their cold, aloof attitude—the kind that kept people at a distance.
This raft was huge, and it even had an Arrow Tower. He was certain that if he had taken even one step closer, those two women wouldn't have hesitated to act.
His instincts were never wrong.
