When stepping out of the restaurant, it unexpectedly started raining outside.
The pattering rain quickly wetted the dry pavement.
Raindrops as big as beans splashed into tiny water flowers on the ground, while people on the streets held bags over their heads to avoid the rain, hurriedly rushing to storefronts where they could wait for the rain to stop.
Others walked indifferently in the rain with wet clothes and hair, not planning to take shelter.
The neon lights on the streets lit up, casting colorful hues and adding a touch of warmth to the dim and wet evening.
Scarlett Yates walked out of the revolving glass door with an unpleasant look on her face.
It was as if the visit to the restaurant had drained the blood from her body; her face was frighteningly pale, her wide, lifeless eyes blankly staring in a direction.
She was only wearing a short sleeve shirt.
