Mr. Qin's car sliced through the desolate streets, its tires crunching on gravel as it came to a halt in front of the dilapidated building. The structure loomed ominously, its broken windows and crumbling facade a testament to neglect.
Yet, within its shadowy depths, Mr. Qin found solace – a temporary sanctuary where he could execute his plans undisturbed.
Stepping out of the vehicle, Mr. Qin's presence commanded the space around him. Dressed in a tailored suit that exuded power and authority, he moved with calculated precision towards the entrance of the abandoned building.
His expression was a mask of steely determination, betraying none of the turmoil raging within.
Upon entering, the musty scent of decay assaulted Mr. Qin's senses, but he paid it no mind. In the dimly lit interior, a lone chair awaited him, positioned beside a table bearing a solitary drink.