Around the globe, the news of the Pendragon Heiress' death was the main topic. Snow couldn't believe his eyes as he searched his phone. It was the number one searched topic, with many speaking of horrible things they would do to him and hoping for the police to capture him.
Snow himself couldn't believe Isolde was dead. It just didn't seem plausible for that kind of woman to be killed like that.
Minutes went by as he looked at the picture. There was no doubt that was him; the Origin Tiers there would have sensed something using mana to impersonate him. An active skill would be picked up without a doubt.
That meant the mission proceeded as planned and they met Mr. Manhattan. But did they really meet him?
He didn't know.
Snow rose from the chair, put on a gray hood, and leaped from the window. He fell from the fiftieth floor of a skyscraper, and the moment he made contact with the ground, green and black glimmer burst out.
