Jelo only took a minute to stare at the closed door of the janitor's closet. Behind it, he could still hear muffled shouting—Atlas's angry cursing and Ken's frustrated demands to be let out. The sounds were getting more desperate, more furious with each passing second.
But Jelo forced himself to turn away.
He couldn't think about that right now. Couldn't let the guilt consume him. He had a mission to complete, a quest the system had given him, and that burning obsession in his chest wouldn't let him rest until it was done.
He moved quickly down the corridor, his enhanced senses tracking the path Garin and his friend had taken. His improved vision from leveling up and consuming the Dabba heart made it easier to spot the small details—scuff marks on the floor, the faint echo of footsteps ahead, the way the air moved in the direction they'd gone.
Jelo followed carefully, maintaining enough distance that he wouldn't be spotted but staying close enough that he wouldn't lose them.
