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War of the Leagues (5)

Somewhere in the city, a posh BMW was racing through the roads. The chauffeur of the sleek car was driving at full speed. He was nervously glancing at the mirror, worried about the cold aura which was emitting from his employer.

Sitting at the back seat was a man of immense grace and quiet dignity. His dark blonde hair was neatly brushed back and he was staring outside the window. A look of cold fury mixed with sadness was reflected on his handsome face. He was quiet but the air he gave off was dangerous and wild.

The man had just heard a rather disturbing news and he was now torn between seeking revenge and carrying out his duties. 

"Sir, we're nearly there," the chauffeur informed him. The man did not say anything but nodded and turned away, staring outside the window. It was going to be a long night.

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