Walker was a man in his sixties, with a beer belly and fading hairline. He had dull green eyes, accentuated by deep-set features typical of a western. Carrying nothing but a simple briefcase with him, he disembarked from his private plane and proceeded to enter the VIP passage. He had departed in a hurry as soon as he received the message from his protégé, whom he had once assumed dead, and by the time he arrived in China, it was already deep into the night.
Despite being accustomed to flying around the globe, the sudden and extremely long flight today still left him utterly exhausted and jet-lagged.
Instead of leaving the airport immediately, he headed toward the VIP lounge, intending to catch a short rest. Choosing an unoccupied sofa, he settled down and closed his eyes for a while. Just then, a staff member approached him.
"Good evening, Sir," she greeted with politeness. "How may I help you?"
