Gloomy, eerie, somber.
In this pitch-dark small room, there was an atmosphere that suffocated the heart.
And in the pitch-dark small room sat a pitch-dark figure.
Pitch dark was not a metaphor, but reality. This person was draped in a black cloak, wearing a hood, and even the exposed skin was wrapped in black cloth; only a pair of black eyes were visible.
"You currently don't look like a constable," Lu Qifeng said with a deep sigh as he entered the small, dark room, "more like a roach or rat hiding in a sewer."
His white Confucian robe contrasted starkly with the dark environment, making the pitch-dark person feel extremely uncomfortable.
"Right now, I'm even less than a sewer roach or rat. At least they have the bare minimum of freedom."
In his flat tone was hidden immense resentful energy. The black-clothed man did not disguise it, and Lu Qifeng could also hear it.
"I know you still resent me. However, the news I bring today might lessen your resentful energy somewhat."
