[VOLUME 11: THE ETERNAL CHASE][LIFE: #48][LOCATION: PARKING LOT BEHIND THE BEAN & BREW]
The alleyway was quiet, save for the distant hum of Nebula City traffic and the aggressive gurgling of a drainpipe.
Aldren Vance stood by the dumpster. He carefully folded his charcoal cashmere sweater ($2,000) and placed it on top of a clean-ish stack of cardboard boxes. He adjusted his silk scarf. He checked his reflection in a puddle of motor oil.
"You look haggard," Li Wusheng commented.
The Monk was standing ten feet away. He had tucked his wide sleeves into his belt. He looked serene, like a statue carved from jade, except for the faint vein throbbing in his forehead.
"It is the lighting," Aldren hissed, turning to face him. He removed his sunglasses. His eyes were no longer amber. They were bleeding into a deep, crimson red. "And the company. Your aura smells like mothballs and self-righteousness."
