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Joy knew she had screwed up when the two wealthy rchants turned to look at her. Her heart skipped a beat, her stomach rolled, but she remained calm on the surface.

She held up the box of ampicillin and looked at the seller with exasperation all over her face. "Ten dollars a box, this is outrageous!"

The wealthy rchants looked away from her and continued their conversation.

"So, when we beco part of the fortress, do you plan to apply for inner housing on Westbrook Mountain. I heard from a close friend that it is where most of the rich live."

"I heard they were planning to move to Westbrook town and build villas. Not just any villas but high end with so fancy tech that they governnt was taking ages to approve before the apocalypse. Now, no governnt ans no red tape. We can rebuild the world according to our image."

The other one laughed. "It has never been a better ti to be wealthy."

The seller snapped his fingers at Joy. "Are you buying or not? Can’t you see that you are holding up the line? If you don’t want ampicillin, buy Ampicura."

"Ampicura?" Joy frowned.

The seller brought a box with Quinn logo on it. "It is a newer and better drug. But more expensive, twenty-five dollars a box."

Joy scoffed. "That is madness."

One of the two rchants pushed her aside. "Don’t waste ti here. The market is open for a limited ti only; we don’t need people like you that haggle over one box of Ampicura." He looked at the seller. "Give one hundred boxes."

"Two hundred for ." The other rchant said.

Then they continued their conversation.

"Between Sunshine, Vicente and Emily, who do you think is stronger?"

The other laughed. "Sunshine has weapons, supplies, numbers and the backing of so of the wealthiest people in the city. I don’t think there is a need to compare. What I do know is that of the three, Emily is probably the weakest."

"But Vicente is most certainly the deadliest. I would never get within two feet of him."

Joy huffed at the seller and walked away. As she mingled, she picked up more information from the whispers. Most was about all the amazing things in Fortress four and their leader. So discussed the wanted won, Moon and Fifi.

To maintain her cover, Joy approached the luxury stall and picked up a crimson bodysuit. She had seen many residents of Fortress four wearing bodysuits of different colors. So colors appeared to be more common than others.

A female rchant smiled.

"A fine choice," she said, "If you can afford it. Only one and half million."

Joy’s jaw dropped. "One and a half million! Who has that kind of money to spend in an apocalypse?"

The rchant scoffed. "Not you, by the look on your face. Perhaps I could direct you to the cheaper stall all the way at the end." She settled back in her chair and continued filing her nails.

Joy grabbed a scarf that was being sold for two hundred dollars and paid for it with a sour look on her face.

The rchant smiled. "It suits you."

Joy rolled her eyes. In what way did it suit her? And who had a million dollars to spend on a bodysuit? That money could buy a lot of food and dicine.

She was still pondering on that when a woman in the company of six bodyguards stopped at the stall and loudly made an order. "Three crimson bodysuits, two gold, five silver. Twenty-three of the common type and fifty pairs of sun resistant boots. I heard you are selling sun and heat-resistant umbrellas as well, give one hundred of those."

Joy turned around and looked at the woman that was ordering for all these costly things without flinching. Tiffany Fairchild. It was easy to recognize her because she had been one of the most famous rising models before the apocalypse.

Her face had been on many magazines. She walked all the brand na fashion shows, courtesy of her family na.

"Are you going to the outer wall market in the wall?" The rchant asked Tiffany.

Tiffany nodded. "Of course. That’s where all the good stuff is. My father is already inside. We don’t just want goods; we want residency as soon as possible."

Joy waited around for a while and followed Tiffany’s group, trying to look like one of them. She was hoping to make it into the market in the wall where the special rchants were being allowed.

But restrictions were tighter. She failed, so she went back to gathering information.

As the sun dipped lower, Joy retreated to the edge of the market which was not covered by the bubble. It was ti to return to Kingsbridge. Her mission was clear. She had to return and tell Lord Emily all she had seen and witnessed.

Her wings unfurled beneath her cloak. But as she prepared to fly, her eyes locked on the figure on white. For a mont, his gaze lifted, eting hers across the distance. The glow in his eyes made her uncomfortable, once again.

Joy’s breath caught. It was like she knew him or sothing about him that was eerily familiar.

Then he smiled, as if he had seen through her disguise. He rotated his shoulders slightly, unfurling his own wings. White were hers were black. Much bigger, sharper and more intimidating than hers. The tips had an eerie red shade, like they had been dipped in fresh blood.

Joy’s heart raced faster than she could breathe. She threw the cloak away and revealed her wings fully. The small crowd of retreating sellers backed away.

She turned and broke into a run, preparing for lift off. But her path was suddenly cut off by a woman that was flying without wings. But the air around the woman was thick, sweeping things away.

An aerokinetic!

Joy turned around and ca to a standstill. He was standing in front of her, the man with white wings. And he was smiling as if he was so amused. Or he knew more than he should.

Bells in the fortress started to tow. For those with faith, it was ti for evening mass. But the priest was not in church. He was standing before Joy, his wings shimring in the dusk as he blocked her path.

"Daughter of flight," he said softly in a boring voice, "Do you not hear the bell? The watchman does not sleep, nor does the city’s gate close to him. Run if you must, but the gate swings only one way tonight."

Leah rolled her eyes. "He ans you are trapped little bird. Now, am I going to have to pluck your feathers one by one or will you be putting on the handcuffs and following us obediently?"

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