The clouds of the summer night pressed extremely low, with not a bit of starlight penetrating the wilderness.
The storm was approaching, and a fierce wind suddenly arose.
The howling wind bent the fields of green corn stalks flat to the ground, rushing along and crashing towards the solitary Peace Farm on the outskirts.
This farm, usually inconspicuous, now seemed like a dormant wild beast in the night wind.
Three low houses surrounded a central two-story main building, with only a few dim lights seeping through.
"Bang—"
The glass windows in the downstairs living room shook violently from the wind, as if ready to shatter at any moment.
A calloused hand reached from the side, lifting a corner of the curtain.
This was a thin, bamboo-like man.
He squinted, his gaze passing through the dusty glass via the slit in the curtain, coldly sweeping the dark wilderness outside.
The man had a miniature communicator tucked in his ear.
