A warlord paced back and forth in the room, growing tired, sitting down and then standing up again to continue pacing.
Cigarette butts littered the floor, some discarded after just two puffs.
But shortly after tossing them away, he couldn't resist lighting a new one.
He was troubled because those major warlords planned to ambush the Federation people in his territory!
Undoubtedly, whether they succeeded in the ambush or not, these people would never admit they were behind the act afterward.
And he, an ordinary warlord, would have to bear the consequences of these capricious actions, possibly ending up on the Federation's blacklist.
At the thought of this, he felt utterly uncomfortable, anxious, and even had an urge to go to the bathroom, but after standing there for a long time, not a single drop came out.
He felt he might die, the sensation of death slowly approaching each day was truly unpleasant, he wanted to run, but couldn't.
