I stopped my VW Beetle in front of an old abandoned warehouse on 9th Street. Many were in the sector, but just as the letter said, I knew exactly which one it was. The run-down name of the company was barely visible, but the logo of an owl still showed, reminding me of the Noctua sigil. I could be wrong, but this building seemed the right one.I opened the car door and walked to the warehouse, looking for an entrance. They barricaded all the entries with pieces of wood and chains. I groaned and trudged along the exterior to find another way to gain access. When I was about to retrace my steps and search for another building, I spotted a broken window on the second floor.“Great,” I mumbled exasperatingly. “As if I do parkour in my spare time.”There was a ledge on the lower window, and I noticed a gutter installed on the wall close to it. I pulled up my sleeves and lightly ran for a jump to get a high start. I climbed the downspout until I was at level with the ledge, and I swung my bo
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