"But unfortunately for you… your time is up."
In the darkness, the eyes of the two patrolling soldiers widened in fear, their first instinct to scream for help. But a large hand had already clamped down over their mouths, forcefully twisting their heads to the side.
Crack!
The sharp sound of bones snapping echoed in the night as the light faded from the eyes of the two Gloam Division soldiers. Their lifeless bodies slumped to the ground, and Mortimer dragged them into a nearby bush before continuing his stealthy advance.
As Mortimer passed by various rooms, he began to feel a twinge of regret. He should have kept one of the soldiers alive to extract information about the Gloam Division's leadership locations before killing them.
Not far ahead, two more beams of light pierced the darkness. Mortimer's eyes gleamed. It seemed fortune was on his side.
"D*mn it, those b*stards are inside playing with women—if not, the brothels—and here we are, stuck patrolling," one of the soldiers grumbled, his flashlight lazily sweeping back and forth.
"No choice, man. We didn't grease the right palms. Let's finish up this patrol quickly so we can take a break."
The two Gloam Division soldiers chatted casually, unaware of the danger creeping up on them.
"Does your superior really make you bribe him?" a raspy voice asked from the shadows.
"Yeah, that old fox is always looking for ways to squeeze us."
"No women, no money…"
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