When the thick fog shrouding Luo Island dispersed, under the scorching sunlight, everything seemed to return to normal.
Apart from the scarlet bloodstains on the streets, the pieces of flesh blown apart by high-pressure water guns, and the cranial bones accidentally embedded in the asphalt, it seemed as if nothing had happened.
The flames were already extinguished, the collapsed buildings had been cordoned off again... and the intruders who should not have been there had returned, scattered, to the places they belonged via the sewers.
Nothing happened.
After the brief chaos, the music and dance resumed.
In his office, burned black and unrecognizable, Ling Shuo once again hosted guests from afar.
In a lively atmosphere between host and guest, he personally sent his sworn brother, Ling Zong, out of the door—meaning hung him on the crack of the office's outer wall.
The mutilated corpse swayed in the wind under the rope, seemingly smiling when illuminated by the sun.
