The setting sun burned like fire, igniting the whole of Tokyo.
Amid the familiar sound of musical instruments, suddenly there came a crisp sound as a metal baseball bat struck a ball.
"You, what did you say?" Xiaoquan Aonai replied in a fluster.
"Where did Dubian go?"
"What are you talking about? How..."
"Answer me!" Kiyono Lin's voice was deeper than usual, with a slightly heavier tone.
Backlit, her face was indiscernible, but Xiaoquan Aonai felt an immense pressure.
Her throat parched, she involuntarily swallowed saliva.
In early April, the still chilly wind swept across the fifth-floor overhead walkway, whipping Kiyono Lin's long hair and slightly lifting her skirt hem, swooping into her collar and sleeves.
But she paid no attention to her uplifted skirt, nor did the wind inside her clothes make her feel any colder; all she wanted to know was one thing...
"Dubian, Dubian Che, where did he go?" Kiyono Lin took a step forward, moving into the shadow of the club building.
