It was only once Mr. Earhart left the room did I finally breathed a sigh of relief. This man, though seemingly gentle and polite, exuded a distinct air of unwelcome.

More disturbingly, I felt a hint of murderous intent in his demeanor.

This was the kind of dark aura that only those who had taken many lives possessed.

Could it be fatigue making me hallucinate?

How could a gentleman who enjoyed coffee possibly possess such a bloodthirsty aura?

It must be an illusion, probably my mind playing tricks on me due to the stressful battle I had with Jared, while with Kent.

Yes, that must be it.

Rubbing my eyes,...