That evening, someone suddenly jumped down from the high wall of the quarry, landing amidst the pile of rocks outside.
The wall was over four meters high. Normally, a jump from such a height would guarantee an injury, let alone landing on jagged rocks where each piece feels like a spike, capable of puncturing upon impact.
Yet, this person landed smoothly without a hint of injury and quickly sprang up, running purposefully in one direction.
The man seemed to be about thirty, with ordinary features. Though not bulky, he had a sturdy build and ran swiftly, traversing the uneven rocky terrain as if it were flat ground, soon disappearing into the mountainous recesses.
He sprinted wildly, evidently familiar with the surroundings.
He reached a road where a red Santana, its hue faded and unremarkable, was parked by the side.
