In the bustling crowd, there was a short man with a bundle, munching on a skewer of candied hawthorn, looking extremely inconspicuous.
The stream of people moved back and forth, and no one thought there was anything odd about the man. Although the bundle was a bit conspicuous, people merely considered him a vendor setting up a stall—their eyes couldn't penetrate the cloth bag, so they couldn't see the steel round shield wrapped beneath the coarse fabric, with traces of old blood grime.
This was exactly the effect the short man wanted. Since it was an assassination, he needed to hide within the crowd.
But the problem was, could he really do it?
