The sound of his voice faded.
Waldor Jones faced the same situation as Isabella Lindsey; before he had any chance to resist, two comet-level masters had pinned his shoulders down.
"Are you Julion Johnsons's grandfather?"
Isabella Lindsey's body was immobilized; she looked sideways and saw Julion Johnsons being carried down from the plane by medical staff, her voice resolute, "I don't believe Julion Johnsons can die, there might still be hope, you could…"
Suddenly, her vision went dark as Jeffery Johnsons moved with what seemed like teleportation speed, flitting in front of her and coming to a stop beside Julion Johnsons.
His thick palm rested on Julion Johnsons's wrist, pausing there for two seconds.
Just a mere two seconds.
This high-ranking leader, who looked only to be in his forties or fifties, seemed to age thirty years all at once, his eyes devoid of their former vitality.
All that was left was an indescribable sorrow…
