Noah stepped out of the shadows, Null Stride fading as the dust of his body reformed into flesh and bone.
He was in a different alley now, the capital's uneven stone walls standing high on either side.
Trash littered the corners, and the faint smell of rot hung in the air.
He adjusted his coat, orange eyes narrowing.
Bruno's last words rang in his ears. An alley behind the East Market. That was his lead.
Noah retraced his path, emerging from the side street and weaving through the press of the capital.
Merchants hawked their wares, their voices ringing over the crowd.
With quick fingers, he stopped a small sheet of dark cloth, tying it over the lower half of his face like a mask.
There was no need for there to be accurate descriptions of his face floating around.
The bar had been dark, so he knew the occupants wouldn't remember him well. They hadn't even seen him clearly, and had fled when Bruno turned.
But here, he was about to do something... open.
