Qing Jiuliu And Ji Shanqing: The Ill-Fated Buddy

For a long time, the banshee-like wailing of pain reverberated in the air. When it finally dissipated, what followed after wasn't the tranquility of silent but something more intense and depressing. It sounded like a loud thud as if something had rolled over the floor. The echo of every collision even penetrated the soundproof wall of the hotel, causing the heart of a man to beat along with its tempo.

The duo who had just arrived at the top floor stopped their advance. Both of them exchanged glances and saw a similar bewildered expression on each other's faces.

"...Let's head back," Qing Jiuliu said after he had contemplated for a while, but his brows remained locked at the center of his forehead. The cigarette that dangled from his lips flicked up and down whenever he spoke, granting him the look of a delinquent. "Magus couldn't divert her concentration now. I suppose she wouldn't know what was that even if there was something there."