From afar, Archer was quietly watching Archer shoveling snow.
The teenager looked around thirteen or fourteen years old, with a slender scar in his eyes, though not particularly noticeable.
His eyes were exceptionally fierce, like a vicious wolf crouched in the bushes waiting for its prey to pass by.
He was one of the twenty-one outsiders who had arrived last time.
Although part of a team, there was hardly any emotional bond between them.
When the fight broke out, he had taken the opportunity to escape amidst the chaos.
No one on either side noticed his move.
Only the little girl.
She had watched him run away but did not make a sound.
Archer did not think the girl was soft-hearted.
She was just watching a group of insignificant people.
It was as if she was walking on the road, saw a group of ants moving house, squatted down to watch for a while with interest, and then turned and walked away when she lost interest.
