"Alright, which room is it?"
Evelyn Clayton sent a text to that number: I’m here.
The number promptly replied:
Upon hearing it was Mist Moon No.1, the waiter showed a slight change but quickly recovered, "Alright, miss, please follow me."
The entire club looked just like a regular building from the outside, only with a somewhat gloomy decoration style. It wasn’t until she was inside that Evelyn Clayton sensed something was off.
The stairs here were all straight. For instance, the stairs from the first to the second floor were on the left, and the stairs from the second to the third floor were on the right.
If someone wanted to go upstairs, they would almost have to walk through all the floors.
And the lighting on each floor was very dim, making Evelyn’s eyes sore.
"Can’t you turn up the lights a bit?"
The waiter smiled but didn’t reply.
Some things are indeed better kept in the dark. The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the NoveI(F)ire.net
Finally, they reached the entrance. On the wooden sign, the words Mist Moon No.1 were deeply engraved with black ink, giving it an eerie feeling.
The waiter left without opening the door for her.
Evelyn’s intuition told her something was wrong, so she sent a text to James Grant, reporting The Black Moon Club’s address.
Just notifying James wasn’t enough, she turned on the recorder on her phone and placed it in her pocket.
She barely touched the doorknob when the door was pulled open from the inside.
She lost balance and fell into the room.
Immediately, a cloth was suddenly thrown over her head.
The sudden blindness alerted her.
Evelyn promptly demanded, "Since you dared to invite me, you must know who I am. Do you dare to try doing something to me?"
An oily voice sounded above her head, "Quite bold, you really dared to come? Get her!"
The next second, three to four hands reached out, groping her, one of them even tugging at her clothes.
"Let go of me! I am James Grant’s fiancée. He won’t let you off for doing this."
"Still so defiant? Let’s see if you’re still this arrogant when you see your own ’artistic photos’ later... Hahaha, strip her!"
The person laughed wildly.
Evelyn struggled desperately, but those hands were well-coordinated. Two held her arms tightly while the others were tearing at her clothes.
With a ripping sound, the cold air on her chest raised goosebumps.
Fear was creeping into her heart.
Evelyn closed her eyes in despair.
The sound of a door being kicked open echoed.
Evelyn widened her eyes in horror, shivering uncontrollably.
The group paused, and even though Evelyn couldn’t see, she could sense their panic.
"Dare to touch her? You’re asking for death!"
It was James Grant’s voice!
The people nearby rushed forward. Evelyn wanted to warn James to be careful, but all she could hear were hurried footsteps.
The next second, a piece of clothing full of James Grant’s scent wrapped around her tightly.
Seeing the situation was dire, several men encircled James, "You dare to play hero all by yourself? Today, we’ll turn the hero into a zero."
James Grant’s response was a flying kick—
The person was kicked to the ground, blood at the corner of his mouth, with his teeth not far where he landed from the kick.
Seeing their comrade being kicked to the point of bleeding, the others rushed forward to overwhelm James.
James Grant skillfully evaded their encirclement.
With a punch, he took one down, and with a roundhouse kick, he tackled another, his moves quick, precise, and ruthless!
In a matter of moments, they were all moaning on the ground.
After dealing with those people, James finally removed the cloth from Evelyn’s head, his voice slightly trembling, "Are you hurt anywhere?"