Dennise was assailed by sounds around her ears. I seem to be hallucinating again. Could it be because I stayed up late reading a novel last night? That’s impossible, I clearly went to sleep the moment it got light. Shaking her swollen head, Dennise curled up in bed once more. The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains onto the big bed, becoming less harsh and dazzling, offering only comfort and ease. Dennise rolled over, rubbing her head against the pillow. He would shower instead of soaking in a bath even when washing. Yet he had no choice but to do just that a moment ago. The gunman gave him an extremely dangerous feeling, once the other party drew their gun, he could not guarantee his own survival. “When did Hans Port become so dangerous?” “Just walking on the street, one could encounter someone concealing themselves with secret techniques?” Leon thought to himself while taking off his black coat, then removed his beloved white boots, pouring the water out of them. Amid the sound of flowing water, Leon’s face showed distress. He had helped out in the kitchen for three months to afford these white boots and had planned to work another two months to buy a pair of white gloves, but he was summoned by Peters instead. “What is Peters up to?” “He summoned us here,” “yet he doesn’t show up himself.” “Truly as unreliable as ever.” With a sigh, Leon’s eyes suddenly sharpened. Then he leapt backward out of thin air. A lasso tied with stones at both ends smashed onto the spot he was just in. Leon called out in a low voice. But a tall, sturdy figure emerged from the distance. As he walked, he twisted his neck. Amid the crisp sound of joints, the already tall and robust figure swelled up, reaching a height of 3 meters, with arms thicker than a normal person’s waist, and an overwhelming presence bearing down on Leon. Leon’s breathing hitched. But not because of the opponent. It was because a trail of black smoke silently appeared behind him. What was even more terrifying was that Leon could feel a cold presence targeting him from afar, and even beneath the previously safe sands, another strong presence emerged. Then, a man with a solid figure and resolute face appeared on the other side of the beach, blocking his escape to the seaside. It was a complete encirclement. Did the patrol guards of Hans Port react this quickly? With gritted teeth, Leon was ready to fight desperately. He didn’t want to end up in prison. And just as Leon was about to draw his sword, Raymond appeared before his eyes. He had not expected a random encounter at Hans Port to have such influence. Just look at the several people around. They already possessed the strength comparable to a small sect. Then, something even more nerve-wracking and despairing happened to Leon. More people of no lesser strength appeared. A full hundred of them. These people surrounded him in circles, silently watching him. The already oppressive atmosphere became even more suffocating. This was no small sect, it was not far off from the strength of a medium-sized sect even in the heyday of past sects. How could Hans Port have such power? Were they the reason Peters had me come here? Peters, where are you? Leon tightened his grip on his dagger. Raymond squinted his eyes and asked: “Where did you come from?” “Where are you going?” As the words fell, the people around them tensed up. Provoked by their momentum, Leon pulled out his dagger and short sword, ready to fight for his life.