At dusk, Flying Dragon shuffled out of the back door of the Xuanqing Guard. He glanced back with a complicated expression and let out a long sigh.
"I'm just a middleman... Why the hell are they messing with me like this!"
Thinking of the names and instructions on that slip of paper, Flying Dragon's heart was trembling.
"I really hope this is all just a dream!"
Sitting blankly in a corner of the alley, Flying Dragon closed his eyes as if he really meant to wake himself up from this suffocating "dream."
"Ah... Guess I'll just go home."
Reality is hard to resist—if you don't want to die, you can only go with the flow and gamble for a chance at survival. But after touching the silver notes in his pocket, Flying Dragon's face regained a bit of color.
