The room felt colder than usual. The dull concrete walls and dim lighting added to the eerie impression. Evan sat on an iron chair that was tied tightly with nylon rope, while the gunshot wound on his shoulder had been roughly bandaged. His face was pale, cold sweat pouring from his temples.
In front of him, Cedric stood with his arms crossed. His eyes were sharp, observing Evan's every movement who was now unable to move. In the corner of the room, Xenon and Veronica leaned back with calm expressions, but their eyes were alert.
"Tell me, Evan," Cedric spoke, his tone calm but piercing, "Who sent you?"
Evan snorted, looking at Cedric sarcastically even though he was in a losing position. "You already know the answer. Why do you have to ask?"
Cedric walked closer, lowering his head
