After school, my Doppelgänger Number 1 quietly tailed Wisebell. The robed figure moved with an air of practiced caution, slipping through shadowed alleys before ducking into an inconspicuous inn. I narrowed my eyes. The place was known as a hideaway for dubious dealings and secret meetings. This was no casual rendezvous.
A few moments later, the silhouette of another man appeared—a rough-looking character, the type who might lead a band of highwaymen. I strained to catch their conversation, careful not to reveal my presence.
"Launch the assault on the magic academy," Wisebell said, his voice low but commanding. "I've prepared a hidden path for entry."
The thief inclined his head, his eyes sharp and calculating. "And the city walls?"
"They're ready. But don't stir trouble within the city itself. Once inside the academy, feel free to take whatever you wish," Wisebell replied, an unsettling smirk crossing his face.
