He felt weaker every waking second as filtered air invading his lungs. His more pronounced breathing told him that his body had not recuperated from the wounds.
'Filtered air,' He thought. Its freshness poisoned him.
The manhole took him to the tunnels. He assumed his safety underneath the City from the pursuing killers but not the environment.
The cleaner the air, the more it was harmful to him.
However, despite his diminishing state, the scent grew more indicative.
'The boy is here,' He sniffed. 'Hours ago, he passed by here,'
He must move fast as his target could escape beyond his smell's reach.
Deeper into the tunnels, he pressed on. The black ooze continued to flow, dripping to the concrete ground, echoing.
