Aamon rushed into the room without listening to Aiden's words, then froze.
What he saw was a side of his brother he had never witnessed before. The gentleness Eric was known for was nowhere to be found. For a moment, it felt as though a demon stood before him, and Eric's method of interrogation proved just how ruthless he could be.
"Even though the wound isn't deep, you should rest.
Aiden, why did you bring him to the upper floor in this condition?"
Seeing the pale face before him, Eric questioned Aiden while wiping his bloodstained hands on Aamon's shirt—a silent but clear warning.
Eric left the room, and the others followed. Slumping onto the sofa in exhaustion, he muttered, "It'd be better to get a cigarette at a time like this."
"What?" Abaddon asked, having not heard him clearly.
"Nothing." Eric's expression turned cold. "Now, can anyone tell me what exactly is going on between the Black Dragons and the White Snake gang?"
