All of them B+ rank.
'They followed him... They're tracking him here to finish what they started.'
Damian's hand moved in a smooth wave and his axe vanished back into his spatial ring.
Then he pulled out something else.
Black clothes, simple and functional, the spare uniform from the Northern Mafia operations.
A white mask, featureless and clean.
He'd kept them for situations exactly like this, moments where his identity needed to stay hidden.
The clothes went on quickly and the mask settled over his face, covering everything.
The approaching signatures were closer now.
Three hundred meters.
Two hundred.
One hundred.
Damian activated his newly acquired skill.
Stealth
The world seemed to shift around him as the skill took effect. His presence diminished, his Aura signature was muted and his body blending into the surroundings.
He moved silently up the tree, until he crouched on a thick branch fifteen meters above the ground.
And waited.
