My Flash Romance With the Richest Mogul novel Chapter 1944

Kemp was also a little puzzled. Manfred was indeed acting unusually today.

Over the years, his methods had grown even sharper and more ruthless, but his emotions rarely showed. Yet tonight, even the guards could sense his bad mood—proof that he had lost control of his emotions.

Was it because of all the deaths in Briarpatch? Because Quillan was truly inhuman?

But that didn't seem right.

After all, Manfred had always been unreadable—his joys and sorrows never showing on his face. And he wasn't the type to be affected by such things.

Having followed him for years, Kemp knew that the only person who could ever affect his mood… was Vivian.

Thinking back to those few days years ago, when Vivian had been by his side—Manfred's eyes had held warmth, even laughter.

But since then, Kemp had never seen that look again. He quickly pushed aside his thoughts and instructed the guards.

"Stop speculating. Stop asking. Do you really think we can figure out what's on Mr. Atkinson's mind? Stay alert and keep watch. Briarpatch is too chaotic—there could be assassins lurking nearby."

With that, he scanned the surroundings, constantly on guard.

The guards immediately dropped their speculation and focused. If an assassin appeared, it would be serious.

…

Manfred gazed into the dark night, his surroundings as silent as a dead city. Then, in the dimly lit alley ahead, he saw a familiar figure.

A woman's silhouette moved slowly toward him, just like in his dreams.

She seemed shrouded in light, standing in stark contrast to the deathly stillness around her. It was as if her mere presence could drive away all the darkness clinging to him.

His eyes locked onto the figure, and without realizing it, he asked, "Do you see that person ahead?"

Kemp followed his gaze. "There's… no one there."

He looked again, just to be sure. There was definitely no one.

Even when the sound of hooves stirred them awake, they only squinted briefly before closing their eyes again.

Manfred scanned the endless sea of displaced people with only a fleeting glance.

Kemp and the guards had grown numb to the sight. After seeing so much suffering upon arriving at Briarpatch, they had already become desensitized.

Meanwhile, Vivian was leaning against the cold wall, caught between sleep and wakefulness. She was exhausted.

Her sleep was fitful and uneasy.

And she had to stay on guard—in a place like this, people in desperation often made reckless, dangerous choices.

She had no intention of getting robbed in her sleep.

Half-opening her eyes, she cast a glance toward the government office. Suddenly, a group of horses thundered past.

Dust and sand whipped into the air, flying straight at her.