Snap, snap—
From aboard the cargo ship came two soft sounds.
These were the sounds of two witches being thrown to the ground.
An investigator was suddenly attacked, losing his life before he could even react.
What was this all about?
To be assigned to a vantage point alone for surveillance, it must have been an investigator with considerable strength among this mission's team. The simplicity of this caster's death had a meaning that was all too clear.
Facing such a situation, Ronald naturally could not remain indifferent.
His gaze swept around him, but the dark docks were empty of any outsiders except for their group.
As for the dock workers themselves,
at least in their current vicinity, those had been dispatched elsewhere by the Bureau's use of authority before the action began.
Where could the enemy be...?
Snap—
Standing above the chilly Wis River, Ronald snapped his fingers.
He reset the protective spell on himself once more.
