Wilson found himself thinking, and overthinking and wasn't something he was used to. 'Did his brother know? Does King know?' His mind ravaged. Something wasn't right. He didn't want to rush into conclusions, but he had this distinct feeling in him that Justin was maybe the antithesis of good luck or anything connected to being lucky.
It had been a week now, and nothing was going their way at all. It seemed trouble followed the man everywhere he went, but he chose not to point fingers. It might be his incompetency, but he couldn't fully neglect Justin's role in their recent mishaps. In just three days, he had been attacked twice by lower members of the guild, and had managed to escape unscathed, the killings had increased exponentially, and now some Advocates who were in the police force were being targeted.
