On a street at the edge of the old city district, an old man with a large beard stood on a pile of stuff that looked like charred entrails, looking impatient as he cut off the communication signal.
"You know, if the area wasn't so vast this time, I really wouldn't want to bring amateurs along for the mission," he said, patting his belly.
The sound of someone joining the conversation came from behind...
"Well, if A-grade field agents are amateurs in your eyes, I wonder what those people would think if they heard you..." The voice was not very clear, and if one turned around, they would find nothing there.
Abraham showed no surprise at this scene; in fact, he didn't even turn his head but simply continued to walk off the pile of disgusting flesh.
