Just as Henry Xi'anmen had completed the aftermath work and was about to leave with a candle in hand, the rhythmic footsteps suddenly halted.
The candlelight cast a reflection on the glass window before him, revealing a blurred scene behind him. A sinister and elegant black shadow sat cross-legged on his chair, holding a book binder, flipping through his written manuscript.
Woosh~
In the dead of night at the newspaper office, one could hear a pin drop. The faint sound of pages turning seemed like a death-knell in Henry Xi'anmen's ears, causing goosebumps to rise all over his body.
A few seconds ago, there had been no one there...
Gulp~
Uncontrollably swallowing a mouthful of saliva, Henry Xi'anmen froze in place, silently praying, and murmuring holy names.
It took him a full ten seconds of mental preparation to stiffly and slowly turn his head, hoping that the reflection in the window was just a hallucination from his exhaustion.
