CHAPTER 155 — WHAT DO YOU DESIRE
Rain.
Cold.
Persistent.
The alley reformed fully around them.
The pale plane was gone.
The vines were gone.
Only the memory.
And the man.
Five-year-old Long Hao stood in the rain, wrist still tingling from the effortless flip that had slammed him to the ground moments earlier.
He should have been terrified.
Any other child would have cried.
Begged.
Run.
But he didn't.
He stared up at the man through wet strands of hair clinging to his face.
The man studied him back.
Not with pity.
Not with cruelty.
With interest.
Measured interest.
"Stand," the man said calmly.
The boy obeyed.
Not because he trusted him.
Because he calculated.
Running now meant certain death.
Standing meant possibility.
He stood.
Small.
Filthy.
Hungry.
The man lowered the umbrella slightly so that rain began soaking his own shoulders.
He didn't seem to care.
He crouched just enough so their eyes met on level.
"What do you desire?"
