Two months later.
In a modern building that looked straight out of the twenty-first century. Big and wide glass panels coupled with the monotonous squarish shape of the building which screamed modernism.
On a wooden chair that was engraved with beautiful floral design sat a black-haired young man with sharp eyebrows and a pointed nose.
In his hand was a white porcelain cup filled with a black bitter liquid.
David took a small sip to clear his head of unnecessary thoughts.
The world that he was currently in was filled with complete psychopaths and degenerates.
People here were so twisted in their thought process. They would go to any length to feel pleasure and pain, something that made them feel alive.
And the most important thing: they were immortal. They couldn't die no matter what.
They could neither be chained nor killed, a perfect combination for a lawless world.