"Achooo." Johan rubbed his red nose violently, mumbling an inaudible complaint about the thick smell of burning metal—the most disgusting smell in the world.
He looked around—more than 40 shops. Some men in thick black masks and robes wandered the tight street—who Johan suspected to be at least Stage 1.
Surprisingly, not even a single person was walking around like they normally would in a tight market like this, but it was an important part of this black market's customer service, one would say.
To give customers as much privacy as possible, all the shops looked small at the front, but were giant malls inside—the result of the Mantel's space magic.
"So, where do we get the information?" Kirin asked excitedly, her voice too out of place and loud for a street filled with tense silence, attracting the attention of all guards, their eyes analyzing, as if trying to recognize them.
Johan slapped the back of Kirin's head, making her cover her mouth with both her hands.
