In the dead of night, the Jinshui Fish Market had long since receded from its clamor, with silence reigning all around.
Within the clinic's basement ward, it was further engulfed in boundless darkness.
The exhaust fan in the corner, coated with grease, emitted a labored and muffled buzzing sound.
Shanks leaned against the hospital bed, his eyes glazed, his expression vacant.
His mind was filled with various thoughts about the "Illuminati".
Back when he first heard the chairman mention this name on the top floor of the Silver Wing Building, he hadn't taken it seriously at all.
He thought it was some obscure little group trying to take advantage of the situation, unwisely provoking the Bloodthorn Mercenary Corps, which had an S-Class expert among their ranks.
But that man had only needed two punches to smash the mountain-like Big Bear and heavily wounded their leader, the Masked Guest.
