Chapter 83: Silent Terror
Zylan, still standing, tilted his head slightly, his piercing gaze locking onto the man. The room seemed to grow heavier with each passing second, as though the very air thickened under his intense presence. His dark eyes betrayed no warmth, no flicker of mercy—only the cold, calculating glint of authority, sharp as a blade.
"Now," Zylan began, his voice smooth, deliberate, and laced with a quiet menace. "Let’s get down to business."
He took a single, measured step forward. The hem of his dark cloak swept across the floor like a shadow, its movement soundless, more predatory than human. The man before him trembled, his body betraying the facade of resilience he attempted to maintain.
"Who sent you?" Zylan’s question hung in the air, sharp and unyielding, each syllable weighted with an unspoken threat.
The man’s mind spun, a whirlpool of panic and confusion. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words emerged. His throat was dry, a coarse feeling like sandpaper constricting his airway. The oppressive weight of Zylan’s stare pinned him to the spot, choking out any hope of defense. Silence stretched on unbearably, amplifying the sound of his rapid, shallow breaths.
The man’s trembling intensified, his knees buckling slightly under the crushing pressure of his fear. It was as though the very air around him was closing in, suffocating him.
Zylan leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper that sent a chill skittering down the man’s spine. "You know what happens to those who play games with me."
The words wrapped around the man like a tightening noose. His breath hitched, his lips quivering, but still, no response came. The fear in his eyes, wide and frantic, was answer enough for Zylan.
Straightening, Zylan took a deliberate step back. His lips curled into a smile—slow, measured, but completely devoid of warmth. It was a cruel expression, as though he were savoring the moment, reveling in the sense of power he held over his captive. "We’ll get there. Eventually."
Turning his back to the man, Zylan gestured lazily with one hand, as if dismissing him entirely. "But for now, stay put. Enjoy your stay in the VVIP center." His voice carried a chilling nonchalance, each word hanging like an invisible thread that held the man in place. "I’ll be back."
The man’s heart thundered in his chest as he watched Zylan retreat toward the door. Each step Zylan took echoed in the room, the sound amplifying his growing sense of impending doom. The trailing hem of Zylan’s cloak swept across the floor behind him like a shadow come to life, a harbinger of something darker.