Kyrian walked through the bustling street with no apparent hurry. His steps were calm, measured, like those of someone who wasn't heading anywhere in particular. But his eyes remained alert, scanning the crowd with a precision that bordered on the supernatural.
People continued their routines as normal.
Merchants advertised their goods with overlapping shouts, offers, promotions, and "last units available!", creating a cacophony of sounds that filled the air.
Cultivators discussed prices, examining merchandise with critical eyes, fingers running over fabrics and metals.
Children ran between the stalls, laughing, shouting, full of life.
No one seemed to notice the man Kyrian was looking for.
Or perhaps no one was capable of noticing him.
Kyrian remembered perfectly the appearance he had seen from across the street.
A man of average height, neither tall nor short. Easy to lose in a crowd.
