Silas looked down at the city beneath, at the warehouse where several criminals patrolled.
Compared to the other warehouses where the gang members were posed as traders, these ones were moving blatantly, fully armed.
Silas looked at them calmly.
His katana appeared in his grip and he dropped to the floor.
The wind beat against his coat, making it rise with an ethereal elegance.
With a soft thud, Silas landed.
The sound, although low, was enough to draw the attention of these cultivators whose senses had been heightened beyond normal.
"An intruder," someone called out, but the words hitched as he completed them.
Another thud echoed through the air, followed by the sound of liquid spraying.
It was the person who had shouted. His head fell to the floor as Silas flashed behind him.
The others stared with wide eyes, seeing one of them fall to the floor.
Silas smiled as he muttered a single word. "Drop."
