The atmosphere here was notably distinct from the frantic, high-volume chaos of the city’s central market arteries.

It wasn’t as crowded or busy as the centre of the city, lacking the thunderous clatter of the massive cargo chariots pulled by the armored bull beasts or the shouting matches of competing brokers trying to liquidate their stock before sunset.

But despite the relative quiet, the street still had people moving up and down as well as a few houses.

Common laborers in simple linen tunics carried small woven baskets of standard domestic goods, low-ranking clerks walked at a leisurely pace with ledgers tucked under their arms, and families resided in the upper multi-storey buildings, their open windows letting out the mundane, comforting scents of evening cooking and burning hearth wood.

Noah frowned beneath his black cat mask, a sudden, cold knot of suspicion tightening deep in his chest.

He looked to the side, where a signpost was hung in the air from a rusted iron bracket attached to the corner of a three-storey brick warehouse.

The weathered wooden signpost had Ter written on it in faded, blocky characters—the ancient regional designation for this particular sub-district of the old merchant docks.

It was the exact, undeniable spatial marker that Tara had described to them during her explanations at the guild headquarters.

This was the place. There was no logistical error, no miscalculated turn through the labyrinthine streets of Vale.

But getting there now though, all they could see were normal people moving up and down.

There were no robed cultists lurking in the shadows, no suspicious magical barriers flaring against his arch magus sensitivity, and no indication that this peaceful, domestic neighborhood had ever served as the staging ground for an international atrocity.

The absolute normalcy of the environment was a weapon in itself, a perfect layer of psychological camouflage that completely erased the historical reality of the horrors that had been bred beneath the very soil they were standing on.

Noah’s eyes widened slightly behind the matte finish of his facepiece, his pupils contracting as the sheer tactical difficulty of their situation settled into his mind.

’We have to at least find the exact building they were performing the experiments...’ He thought.

If they couldn’t even isolate the specific structural node where the children had been held and altered, the entire mission to Vale city would turn into a catastrophic waste of time.

They couldn’t investigate an entire district of residential storeys and active merchant warehouses without drawing the immediate attention of the count’s guards or forcing the shadow organization’s lingering lookouts to eliminate whatever evidence remained buried in the dark.

They needed a starting point, a physical anchor for his Eye of Truth to scan for residual elemental prints.

He stopped walking completely, standing like a solid, unyielding statue in the middle of the granite pavement, and turned his head slightly toward the two master-level casters waiting behind him.

"Let’s spread out across the street," he said, his voice dropping into that cold, detached, and utterly authoritative baritone that perfectly maintained the terrifying persona of Mr. White.

He kept his arms folded loosely beneath his travel cloak, his tone brooking no argument. "Find whatever you can find, and come back to tell me whatever it is. Look for anomalies in the stone foundations, irregular mana shielding, or any structural discrepancies in the lower vaults."

The two adventurers nodded instantly, their expressions hardening as they accepted the directive.

Without a single word of hesitation, they spread out across the length of Ter Street, their physical forms parting with a fluid, professional efficiency as they began their independent sweeps.

Yuan turned toward the eastern line of houses, inspecting the street as ’normally’ as he could without acting too suspicious, while Varis drifted toward the western residential blocks, his bald head catching the fading sunlight as he used his sharp master magus senses to probe the lower drainage conduits for hidden passages.

Noah remained in motion as well, his boots moving silently over the granite blocks as he activated his own subroutines, systematically scanning every door frame, every iron gate, and every basement window he passed.

But after searching for minutes, the ticking of the clock drawing out the tension until the afternoon sun began to dip below the high rooftops, they still couldn’t find anything that seemed out of the ordinary.

The stone foundations were standard granite, the drainage pipes carried nothing but common waste, and the residents inside the multi-storey houses were exactly what they appeared to be—innocent, lower-middle-class citizens completely oblivious to the dark legacy of their neighborhood.

The passing of years had either allowed the environment to completely heal, or the organization had cleaned the area with a level of surgical perfection that defied conventional tracking magic.

The frustration of the dead end finally forced them to regroup before their prolonged presence drew the suspicion of the local watch.

The three of them met back at a corner of the street, slipping into the narrow, cool shadow cast by a large grain repository to avoid the casual glances of the passing clerks.

Yuan and Varis stood beside Noah, their initial discipline slightly fraying as the cold reality of their failure began to weigh on their postures.

Both men were starting to get frustrated by the whole thing, their jaws tight and their brows furrowed in deep irritation.

They were veteran master-level casters accustomed to fighting clear, tangible threats—monsters they could track, arrays they could unravel, and enemies they could crush with their elemental magic.

Spending their valuable time pacing up and down a perfectly peaceful residential street, searching for a ghost that had vanished years ago, was testing the absolute limits of their patience, and the silent tension between them grew thicker by the second.

"There’s nothing there..." Yuan said.

He gestured faintly toward the open pavement of Ter Street with a tight flick of his wrist. "...just people moving about. We’ve checked every stone foundation, and every building from one end of this block to the other. It’s an ordinary residential sector, through and through."