Chapter 67
Elijah stood outside the bar in Mike's territory, the so-called Fake Gangless area.
He wore a loose white shirt with his gang's symbol on it, concealing his muscular frame, along with black shorts and matching black shoes.
Morning sunlight filtered through the streets, and inside the bar, Sylvia was busy cleaning.
Most patrons had already left, as this was the quietest time of day.
Two men in black suits stood guard at the bar's entrance, the emblem of Elijah's gang stitched on their backs.
Their presence wasn't just for show—they were there to protect Sylvia, whether from drunken troublemakers or potential threats from rival gangs.
In that moment, Elijah's aura was unsettling, his red eyes glowing like pools of blood.
There was a depth to them—an abyss that swallowed warmth, leaving only a quiet chill in the air.
He wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary, just standing there, but the way he looked at people now had changed.
