Raphael and His Tailor

What happened next was simple; a ninth level Adept had no trouble dealing with the normal security – little more effort than lifting a finger. Lan Jue didn’t even need to enter the room. He urged his electric Discipline through a nearby outlet, shorting out all of the equipment within. At the very least, all of their surveillance footage for the day was lost.

It was quick, and quiet. Those in the shop were none the wiser. Still, they’d left a mess and wanted to vacate as soon as possible. They returned to the third floor.

Raphael was still there. He was trying on clothes while chatting with the tailor. She was a woman who looked to be in her thirties. Her long black hair was stark against a white blouse with the sleeves rolled up. Agile fingers pulled her crimped hair back in to a pony tail, accentuating her long pale neck.