On The Table

In the boxing gym, Sonee sat in a booth in the corner, looking dejected.

A half-empty bottle of whiskey sat in front of him.

The bar had come back to life, though the liveliness wouldn't last long. After all, several people from various factions had just died here. Although the news was immediately contained, someone was bound to notice their missing members—it was only a matter of time.

Sonee understood this well. He wasn't trying to cover things up; he just needed to maintain...