Notre Dame Cathedral.
Across the devastated earth, hazy mist soaked through pools of blood, and the air flowed with a thick stench of gore.
Bodies lay motionless amid the shattered ruins, twisted into grotesque shapes, countless bones broken, with only the faintest traces of life remaining.
At the center of the battlefield, like a meteor crater, a figure in a black cloak stood silently. The breeze brushed against the broad hood, and the characters "04" on its brim swayed in the wind.
Before him, three agents remained. They barely managed to keep themselves standing, their eyes filled with terror as they looked at No. 04.
Creak—!
The ancient doors let out a dull groan. The five minutes were up, and No. 03 pushed open the doors of Notre Dame Cathedral and stepped out.
His gaze swept over the ravaged battlefield, ridicule surfacing in his eyes. He calmly walked to No. 04's side and slowly spoke:
"Three are still left... Your strength has declined, Hephaestus."
"I held back," No. 04 said flatly. "These ones are quite capable. If they're too badly hurt now... they won't be useful to us."
"That's true." No. 03 swept his gaze around. "Where are the other agents? You didn't kill them, did you?"
"No."
"Good. There are quite a few promising ones among them. Their combat strength may be lacking, but they can still come in handy at critical moments."
No. 03 stepped forward and dragged more than ten agents out from among the half-dead survivors, tossing them onto the ground like corpses.
No. 03 lifted one agent by the head. The blood-smeared brim of his hood clearly bore the number "22."
"And this one. He went to King's Treasury, so he should know some crucial clues he hasn't revealed."
No. 03 raised a hand and