"He's even more fascinating than I initially thought," Valerio said, watching from his workshop window as Pierre crossed the courtyard below. The afternoon sun cast Pierre's tall figure in sharp relief against the cobblestones, his red hair blazing like a beacon. "A man with the power to absorb others' essence. To think such an ability exists in the world!"
Marco stood silently behind his master, a shadow in human form, his face impassive as he awaited instructions. His eyes, however, betrayed a flicker of unease.
"Double the men watching him," Valerio continued, not turning around. His fingers drummed against the windowsill, an eager rhythm that belied his composed exterior. "I want to know everywhere he goes, everyone he speaks with. If he touches a doorknob, I want to know how long his fingers lingered. If he so much as sneezes, I want a report on the trajectory of every droplet."
"Yes, Master Valerio," Marco replied. "And the women? The navigator and the blonde?"
