Killing the protestors, whether it was actually his fault or not, would only reinforce the people's belief and paint him as the guilty one.
'There could be more here.'
Though they had stopped one of them in time, the same couldn't be said about the others. He focused on the roaring crowd, on the chanting mass and their furious eyes.
Anyone here could be a spy.
'I have to find another way to find them.'
A thought struck him, and he turned to the others.
"Find a way to clear my name. I'll focus on the remaining spies."
He vanished the moment they nodded, reappearing in the commissioner's office.
"M-my lord!"
The rotund man was at it again. Even more girls than before were scattered across the office, giggling and doing all sorts of… immoral things.
Hundreds of children were dead, the territory was on the brink of collapse, yet this foolish man was here having the time of his life.
Atticus felt a wave of anger rise through him but forced it down. 'He's not real.'
