Chapter 624
Chapter 624: Episode 008 Past Acquaintances (6)
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5 min read
Glenn Hutchinson took charge of ordering the dishes, Flossie Wright didn’t even glance at the menu, but what ended up on the table were mostly her favorites. The remaining few were clearly the ones Flynn Reid enjoyed.
Watching as Glenn Hutchinson served her a bowl of rice, his actions casual yet practiced, as natural as could be, gave no other implication. Yet, when Flossie received the bowl and chopsticks, she felt an odd sensation.
This man seemed to be less domineering than he usually did.
"Sister, here."
Flynn Reid sat next to Flossie Wright, holding his rice bowl. But the piece of chicken leg he carefully picked up was put into Flossie’s bowl.
Upon hearing his soft voice, Flossie looked at the chopsticks in the bowl, and turning her head, she saw Flynn Reid’s cherubic face, his clear and luminous eyes, as pure and untainted as flowing water.
Then, Flynn Reid added a piece of meat to Glenn Hutchinson’s bowl, using his crisp, gentle voice he said, "Daddy, here."
Glenn Hutchinson responded faintly but didn’t express much.
Having grown accustomed to Glenn Hutchinson’s aloof demeanor, Flossie didn’t interfere. Although, during the meal, she unusually added food to Flynn’s dishes a few times.
For someone like her, used to independence since childhood and rarely engaging in such interactions, even when dining harmoniously with family or friends, those little unfamiliarities vanished upon seeing the well-behaved Flynn.
While Flossie and the others were dining, the woman responsible for "cooking" had finished and was dialing a familiar phone number while walking away in her red heels from the secluded alleyway.
Africa, D Country.
The sun was high up, the weather unbearably hot. The air seemed like it could combust at any moment.
The desolate village with dilapidated wooden buildings, the sporadic, spiritless crowd - their constant exposure to warfare had turned them numb and lifeless, their existence only manifesting amidst suffering.
A decrepit military jeep sped down the empty streets, stirring clouds of choking dust on the bumpy road.
Some pedestrians halted, watching the rickety jeep disappear from their sight. Apart from a few signs of worry and sighs, their eyes mostly reflected numbness.
Should living hold no significance, they wouldn’t see why they should be irritated by such minor incidents.
After several turns, the military jeep finally pulled up outside the only inn in the village.
Some children playing by the roadside, startled and curious at the sudden arrival of the jeep, eventually disappeared around the corner.
The individuals who got off the vehicle were covered in dust, grumbling, probably about the state of the roads. Their appearance caught the attention of the others. But their brawny build, combined with the knives and handguns hanging at their waist and the military equipment carelessly displayed, turned people away. They only watched from a distance without taking a step forward.
These were outsiders. The locals didn’t have such equipment.
"Ah, alright... got it."
The driver, on the phone, seemed increasingly irritated. By the time he hung up, his already sunburnt face had darkened further, and a tinge of hesitation crawled in.
There, on the passenger seat, sat a man dressed in a black trench coat.
A black wide-brimmed hat on his head concealed half his face, but the glimpse of his jawline was breathtaking. The stubble from a few days not grooming added a bit of masculinity.
The man casually crossed his legs, his elbow propping the open car window. The scorching sunlight shone obliquely, casting a light on his hat, elbow, leather gloves, trench coat, outlining his side face, and casting a light fuzz around his silhouette.
The mingling of darkness and light made him all the more mysterious.
No one dared disturb him. Those who grumbled as they moved away and the driver who received the phone call, their gaze, unintentionally sweeping over him, was filled with fear and apprehension. They quickly averted their eyes.
No one wished to have more contact with this devil-like man.
An unquantifiable mysterious aura and unpredictable temperament and those cold, venomous eyes.
"No, it didn’t work."
After he put down the phone, the driver nervously glanced at the man, a tremor in his voice.
At the sound, the man moved slightly, his head tilting slightly in his direction. Under the glaring sunlight, his face under the wide brim of the hat remained in shadows, the stark contrast making it hard to see clearly, only revealing the man’s handsome face vaguely.
Feeling a wave of dread engulf him, the driver’s heart clenched as he relayed everything he heard on the phone.
Having relayed everything, the driver breathed a sigh of relief, but hastily added in the end, "The woman’s exact words were... ’Tell him, don’t touch anyone from Eastlandia.’"
The man’s body gave a slight jerk, his eyes contracting sharply.
Don’t touch anyone from Eastlandia.
No one would know of this agreement.
Only her...
The atmosphere suddenly became tense. The driver’s hand, holding the phone, was sweating. His heart was pounding as if it could jump out any moment.
"Investigate."
After a moment, the man uttered a single word, his cold voice apparently laden with rage.
The driver didn’t respond right away.
"Get me that woman’s information by tonight."
As his words fell, the sound of the car door closing echoed through the silence.
By the time the driver came around, the figure sitting next to him had already vanished. Looking through the car window, only a black figure entering the bright sunlight was visible, his trench coat swaying in the air.
Despite the scorching heat, a bone-chilling chill seemed to emanate from him.
— End of Chapter 624 —