We moved through the dark district without speaking, our footsteps echoing faintly against damp stone and broken cobble.
The air smelled of cheap alcohol, mold, and something rotten that had long since lost its source.
It didn't take long before the silence became unbearable.
"…Hey," Amelia muttered, tugging her cloak tighter around herself. "Are we there yet?"
She glanced around as she spoke, eyes darting to the shadows between buildings, clearly eager to be done with this place—even if she understood why we had to come.
Emma, on the other hand, looked far less impatient and far more irritated.
"…Tch. To think I came here not to arrest criminals, but to collude with them," she clicked her tongue.
No—correction.
Judging by the way her hand hovered near her weapon and the sharp gleam in her eyes, it wasn't reluctance.
It was anticipation.
She looked like someone itching to scrub the district clean with force.
"We're almost there," I said, slowing my pace.
