Prince perched silently on a high beam above Li Ming Jun's study, unseen in the dim candlelight. The room was a wreck—shattered glass, overturned furniture, scrolls scattered across the floor. But Li Ming Jun wasn't paying attention to any of it. His gaze was fixed on the Return Whisp floating before him, its faint glow illuminating his face.
Prince's eyes narrowed as he focused, letting his magic drift into the man's mind. The message replayed in a loop within Li Ming Jun's thoughts, its words searing into his consciousness:
"Tai Yang or the research. One of them, or the prince dies."
Li Ming Jun's fingers trembled before curling into a fist. His breath came in uneven bursts, his chest heaving with emotion. His mind was a storm—rage, desperation, and obsession all tangled together like a broken marionette's strings.
Tai Yang. His Tai Yang. Gone.