Chapter 320 The Map
- *Sylvester's POV*
- Don Pabliyo’s ringed hand paused on the map—but his eyes weren’t on it.
- “They built this facility like a tomb,” he said, in a low and deliberate tone, almost admiring. “Concrete bones. Iron lungs. No natural light. No colour. Like they wanted to strip the soul from a man the moment he walked in.”