The Watchman felt that the man before him had a strangely familiar style.
That wild, unrestrained behavior—why was it so much like his disciple Finn? Finn seemed to have done something similar before—
One Halloween, that kid had wandered around campus with a McDonald's paper bag over his head, claiming it was a tribute to the countless broiler chickens killed by McDonald's every year.
But he knew the person before him definitely was not Finn.
Finn was far more burly, like a bear walking upright; this man was leaner and taller, standing there like a sheathed blade.
His gaze passed over the ridiculous Colonel Sanders paper bag and landed on the completely empty altar.
The other party had merely made a casual gesture, and Constantine's dragon bone vanished right before his eyes.
The Watchman's eyes were filled with gravity. This "Mr. Colonel Sanders" was no simple character. Whether it was infiltrating the Well of Oblivion without a sound or making the Dragon Bone Cross disappear, both were utterly unfathomable.
"Breaking in so casually without even saying hello is a little rude, isn't it?" the Watchman said in a low voice, his hand already resting on the revolver at his waist. "Put the dragon bone back, or I'll treat you as a thief."
"A thief?" Amon tilted his head, and the Colonel Sanders paper bag swayed with the movement. "I'm not some thief who climbed over the wall. I'm a guest who walked in openly through the front gate."
"NOMA didn't stop you?"
To reach the Well of Oblivion from beneath the Library, one had to pass through layer upon layer of defenses controlled by NOMA: iris recognition, voiceprint verification, genetic profile scans—even a powerful Dragon Kind could not cross those defenses silently without triggering an alarm.
"NOMA?" Amon laughed. His