Chapter 165: Victor -The CEO
The common hall of the Willson Guild, which had been suffocating under a blanket of defeat, was now frozen in a new kind of silence.
The senior members, who moments ago were slumped in despair, sat bolt upright, their eyes wide, staring at the man who had just invited himself to their funeral.
Victor Arkwright, oblivious or perhaps, feeding on the tension, looked around the hall with a bright, appraising gaze.
He saw worn tables, a near-empty mission board, and the faces of hunters who hadn't seen a decent payday in months.
'Showtime,' I thought, taking a deliberately slow sip of my now-cold tea from the corner of the room. I had to physically restrain the smirk that threatened to crawl across my face. Victor was playing his part to perfection.
The suit was immaculate, a sharp contrast to the guild's scuffed leather.
