A building made of concrete and iron walls, with one of its wings partially destroyed, caught Zeno and Sinclair's eyes. They reached their target location at last.
The Stylist of Justice halted and extended her right hand sideways to stop the demon on his track.
"Wait a second," she said in a low voice, doing her best to conceal her presence.
The atmosphere around the place was eerie, and the deepening silence was enough to make Sinclair's heart beat in worry. She felt no movement at all.
"Did they abandon this place? Where are they?" She fretted in a low voice.
Meanwhile, Zeno didn't bother himself to listen to Sinclair's mumbling. He glanced at his right wrist, and his lips curled into a smirk.
'I'm not used to this; after all, Eliana's Legacy is way too convenient if maximized properly. Lending it to her is the best choice,' he thought upon seeing the name written in red capital letters with a horizontal line in the middle.
. . . . .
