Damian turned toward the entrance, where a young boy, about four or five years old, stood. The boy looked as delicate and perfect as a porcelain doll, his features angelic, like a figure in a painting.
"Where did this little angel come from?" Victor asked in surprise.
More surprisingly, the boy was holding a dart in his hand.
He was the one who had thrown it.
Victor was in disbelief. "A kid who can hit the eighth ring? That's incredible."
Damian stared intently at the boy, a strange gleam in his eyes.
The boy had eyes just like his.
"Kid, who are you?" Damian asked, his voice calm but curious.
This was South Hill Villa. What was a child doing sneaking around here?
Unfazed, the boy took a few steps forward and looked up at Damian with confidence. "My name is Joe. Old Corbin says you're amazing. One day, I'll surpass you. I'll be greater than you."
"Whoa, what a bold kid." Damian chuckled. "Where's your mother? Did she bring you here?"
