Finally, it began to rain.
After the heavy rainfall in Washington last night, the rain arrived in Dallas.
Perhaps it was predestined, or perhaps it was an indescribable twist of fate.
Standing in the yard of his villa, Bill held an umbrella alone.
The umbrella was not very expensive, but for working-class people, it might be worth more than a year's salary.
He stood there with a crazed and sinister smile on his face, his eyes fixed on the message displayed on his mobile phone. As the cold rain poured down around him, he was overcome with a turbulent mix of emotions, his thoughts consumed by a powerful urge to kill.
"The Maire family's prodigy has made his move. Trent, let's see how you'll survive this time."
Just now, the two elders of the Bernoulli family left. After slapping Bill several times and forcing him to make a decision, they left decisively.
Before departing, they issued a stern warning to him: