Alexander couldn’t help but feel curious. After all, living legends like Draven were rare.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The sound of synchronized footsteps echoed like war drums. A group of burly men in camouflage uniforms marched in, radiating an aura of lethal intensity.
Walking casually beside them, Draven wore beach shorts, flip-flops, and a carefree smile, with a pipe hanging from his lips.
Compared to his imposing entourage, Draven looked more like a laid-back rogue than a seasoned Warlord.
“Ah, everyone’s here so early! I hope we’re not late.” Draven exclaimed cheerfully.
Jeremy hurried to greet him, practically jogging as he approached.
“Mr. Rhodes, your timing is impeccable—not a minute early, not a minute late.” Jeremy flattered.
Draven patted Jeremy’s cheek playfully, grinning: “So
