Half an hour ago. 

A Native American couple entered at the start of St. Cross Street and began their leisurely pace down the path. The petite woman had her arms hooked around the man’s arm intimately, not fazed by the brush of his elbow against her soft chest. 

“He went in.” Tsukino Kyoko reported, “He’s probably buying the same food again. Disgusting sour olives and rye bread.” 

Xia Lei confirmed, “Yeah, it is the same combination again. His name is Harde. He’s using this method to torment their prisoner.” 

“A prisoner that the FA is interested in and chose to engage in a time like this. I wonder who it is? I’ve got no clues to assume either,” said Tsukino Kyoko. 

Xia Lei gazed down at her. “What are you referring to by time like this?” 

“After the pyramid crumbled,” answered Tsukino Kyoko. 

Xia Lei chuckled. “You’re forgetting something.” 

“What did I forget?” Tsukino Kyoko looked at him with curious eyes. 

“That I’m dead.” Xia Lei continued, “I’m dead now but the CIA is not going to let up. Their target is no longer me but...