Chapter 102

It was an irritating rainy night.

There were no stars or lights. There was an indescribable, wet smell of garbage in the back alley of the street. A few pedestrians hurriedly passed by with black umbrellas. Everyone was busy looking at the road under their feet, afraid that the rain would wet their shoes.

No one would stay outside in such weather, and only a car parked by the street could attract the attention of passers-by. The car didn't belong to a rainy night like this. A manor garage lit by warm lights should have been its destiny.

Yet it was parked by the roadside now. The window was rolled down slowly, and out came a slender hand with distinct veins.

The hand held a half-lit cigarette. No one knew what the owner of the car was thinking. The rain wet his hands, but he did not care. He threw the burning smoke on the ground. As if disturbed by the sound of rain, he raised the half-open window.