"Oh, the Crimson Sect..." Zhou Chen trailed off, glancing out the pitch-black window before giving a faint smile. "My friend out there, come on in and talk."
A dark figure vaulted through the window. It was a masked woman with her hair in a ponytail and a cold look in her eyes. Judging by her figure, she didn't seem to be very old.
"I am Mandala. Who are you?" the woman asked, her gaze cold. As fellow Deacon-level individuals, they were all ruthless, proud, and arrogant. None of them would be subservient to another.
"'Butcher.' That's what everyone calls me," Zhou Chen said, giving the Steward codename he'd casually made up for himself.
"You're not the Steward of Hong City." Mandala's eyes narrowed. She knew exactly who represented the Eternal Fire in Hong City.
