Chapter 1122
Alistair and Hetastian rolled up to this bar, eyes darting around as they pushed through the crowd, heading for a private room.
Some dude bumped into Alistair, and just as he was about to flip out, he felt something in his hand.
He held up the note to the light, and his face changed. He elbowed Hetastian and handed it over.
Alistair scanned the crowd, but it was too packed and noisy to figure out who slipped him the note.
After Hetastian read it, they shared a look and made a beeline for the restroom.
A few minutes later, they came out and headed straight for the private room.
The guards at the door recognized them and let them in.
As soon as they walked in, they saw Alton and Walter.
Walter grinned. "You made it?"
Alistair smirked and plopped down next to him. "Walter, long time no see. What brings you here?"
Walter replied, "Just checking on you guys. Landon—no, Brent, where's he at?"
"No clue. We got split up after the Obsidian Circle hit our base, and we haven't heard from him since," Alistair said.
"You know how stubborn he is. Why can't he just focus on making money instead of messing with Alexander?" Alistair sighed, looking frustrated. "I can't get through to him."
"Is that so? That's a bummer. So, are you guys on the Obsidian Circle's hit list now?" Walter asked.
"Not really. We're just here to chill and plan to head back in a couple of days," Alistair said, making up a story. Truth was, he wasn't sure if they were being targeted by the Obsidian Circle; he just didn't want to mess with Alexander.
He figured if they weren't already on the radar, going after Alexander would definitely put them there, so he was dodging it as much as possible.
"Seems like Landon isn't someone we can count on. You and Hetastian are more dependable," Walter praised.
Alistair laughed, saying, "You can't say that. We wouldn't have opened up those channels so fast these past few years without his and your intel."
Walter poured him a drink, saying, "Forget it. He's got his own goals. We can't force him."
"Right, let's drink," Alistair said, raising his glass. In the dimly lit private room, under the flashing lights of the big screen, everyone had their own thoughts, but the vibe was chill.
Sean and Matthew, dressed in drag with flashy wigs, were dancing on the outside dance floor.
"Think Alistair and Hetastian are dead already?" Sean whispered.
Matthew shook his head, dancing awkwardly. Whose bright idea was it to dress in drag? If anyone he knew saw him, he'd be mortified.
Sean slapped his butt, saying, "Dance properly."
Trying to save face, Sean danced seductively, outshining the women around him.
Alexander had already left the hospital, and he and Quinn were now crashing at Casey's place.
Casey's house was on the edge of the village. It was two self-built rooms, all crooked and run-down from years of weather, looking like they could collapse any second.
To make room for Alexander and Quinn, Casey had gone to stay with her mom.
In the bare room, an old cabinet stood against the wall, and a dusty, greasy light bulb on the ceiling gave off a dim glow. The room was so dark it was even gloomier than the firewood they used to burn in the cave.
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