"Take it well. From now on, there is your only cloth. You are not allowed to wear any other clothes outside."
He took Andrew, who had already registered, to the preparation room. The young man named Marin threw a military uniform at him ferociously.
Andrew looked around.
The earth-green grass looked old and shabby from inside to outside.
Andrew also found a piece of paper sewed together with the clothes at the entrance of the bag.
There was still a vague washed name on it, which could be vaguely distinguished: Monaco.
"What does Monaco mean?" Andrew asked.
Taking a glance at it, Marin said impatiently, "The last owner of this cloth."
"Will your clothes be for two people?"
"Yes."
"Then where is Monaco?"
"Dead."
"Dead?"
"He is my best friend."
"No, will you take off the clothes of the dead and continue to wear them?" Andrew couldn't believe what he had seen in any Magic Association.