His ears were filled with the sharp cries, the wailing, and the tragic deaths. It was as if he had returned to his desolate, corrupted world, where only the strong survived, and the stench of death permeated every street and alley.
There was a time when Sian had encountered the Silent Killer. As his name suggested, the man murdered without dirtying his hands. He didn't even need to wield a weapon—just a touch on bare skin, and within moments, his victim would die without a trace.
That was his terrifying power, one that drained the very essence of life from his victims, leaving behind nothing but an empty shell.
Just a hollow, lifeless husk…
Sian despised that kind of power, and he despised its owner even more. The man had slaughtered thousands for his own twisted enjoyment, taking pleasure in absorbing the life force of others.
