The roar of the train seemed to thunder directly inside Luan's eardrums. The sound of iron wheels grinding against the scorching tracks, Mark's screams of despair muffled by the gag, and the sight of that body being crushed by the iron giant in a matter of seconds—it all felt so real inside his head.
The rage burning in his chest had conjured a brutal vision of how he wanted to wipe the man standing before him off the face of the earth.
However, a midday breeze carrying dust from the sidewalk swept across Luan's face, snapping him out of his reverie.
Luan blinked, his gaze returning to the reality before his eyes, he was still standing on the sidewalk along the noisy main road of the capital city. His own hand was still gripping Mark's shirt collar tightly. Luan's breath came in short gasps, his chest heaving as he held back the emotional turmoil that had nearly caused him to lose control of his sanity.
