The large iron door in the corner of the west corridor opened with a heavy thud, allowing the cold morning mist of Neophile City to break in and sweep across Helga's face. Behind that door lay an isolated backyard area surrounded by six-meter-high concrete walls, complete with live electric barbed wire at the top. The place was not a lush flower garden, but rather a private tactical shooting range, complete with a row of human silhouette targets made of steel lined up at the end of the area.Zizie Wilder walked across the field with graceful yet solid strides. Her black velvet gown swept the cement floor, creating a strange contrast in this place filled with the scent of weapon lubricant and burnt gunpowder."Note this in your head, Helga," Zizie said without turning her body around. "Inside the Wilder family, name is everything. If you cannot defend your own name, others will step on you. Elzio, my big-mouthed eldest son in the hall earlier, is just one example of the many wolves in
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