“Yes, Mr. Cunningham, I’ll do my best.”

Khary was in pain, sweat pouring down his back. He agreed, but deep down, he knew that no matter if it was half a month or half a year, he wouldn’t be able to find her. If he couldn’t find her after half a month, having his arm cut off would be a way for him to atone for his failure.

“Now leave…”

After dismissing Khary, Dylan drowned his sorrows in alcohol once again.

As soon as Khary left, Maeve arrived. The two men met at the door, and their eyes held complex emotions.

Walking into Dylan’s house, Maeve saw him sitting despondently...