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Chapter Seventy Six: Walter Anderson

A figure dressed in a black leather trenchcoat and trouser dashed through the forest, moving with so much stealth that he didn't make a sound while running across the leaves. It was as if he was running in the air, not coming in contact with the ground. He had a brown hair, brown eyes and narrow lips, his expression very grim as if he had lost something very precious to him. A black hilted sword was strapped to his left side, his right hand calmly placed on it as he ran through the forest.

Suddenly he stopped and crouched, his eyes scanning his environment while his ears perked up to listen to distinct sounds. Every scene and sound was distinguishable to him and he could even observe and hear things from over 100 meters to 200 meters.

Charcoal, men dressed in black and happy laughter...he outlined what he smelled, saw and heard in his mind. His brown eyes narrowed as he took out a piece of crumbled paper from the right pocket of his black trenchcoat. There was a neat handwriting which
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