The illusion shimmered faintly across the bathroom door, sealing the world away behind a veil of soft distortion. No sound would escape and no one would be able to enter. For a short while, this cramped stone restroom, soaked in lantern-red shadow, existed outside the rest of the city.
Albedo exhaled lightly and turned toward the slumped mercenary.
The man breathed shallowly, his head dipped forward, chin resting weakly against his chest. Without his mana, he looked deceptively normal, just another hired blade, tired from whatever jobs the night before had demanded of him.
But Albedo's tracking marks thrummed across his senses like tiny pulses of starlight.
One down and Eight more remained in the Restricted Zone… but this one had left and it made him the easiest to pry open.
Albedo raised his hand.
SLAP!
