In the dead of night, the silent room was devoid of any light, with only the cold aura flowing through the air.
"I told you, you're not allowed to contact me privately again."
A hoarse voice echoed through the room.
"Why won't you listen?"
Crack—
A cold, hard iron hand suddenly clamped around Stuart's neck, lifting him violently off the ground.
A feeling of suffocation surged over him like a tide; Stuart's complexion rapidly turned a purple-blue, his eyes bulging, and a hissing struggle emitted from his throat.
He struggled to lift his gaze, looking toward the figure shrouded in a black robe across from him.
The person wore a steel mask that gleamed coldly, revealing only a pair of eyes deep as the abyss, with an indifference and coldness in their gaze enough to make anyone's heart tremble.
But at this moment, there was not a trace of panic or fear in Stuart's eyes, only an extreme madness bordering on distortion.
