I donned my black cloak, the fabric blending seamlessly with the night. My movements were silent as I scaled the walls, my eyes scanning the city below. The streets were quieter now, the hustle and bustle of the day giving way to the calm of the night.
My target was holed up in a decrepit building on the edge of the market district—a fitting hideout for someone who thrived on the misery of others. I approached the building cautiously, sticking to the shadows. The guards at the entrance were inattentive, their posture relaxed. They clearly didn't expect trouble.
"Amateurs," I thought with a smirk.