Chapter 133 The Assassination

• Sylvia thought for a moment and then looked around, finally taking a simple tool kit from the cabinet. She stepped into the rising cold water in the restroom and crouched down to begin sorting through the chaotic wiring.
• This was something she learned in the slums from an elderly electrician who, despite his dementia, remembered his trade and insisted on teaching her. She had only listened, never having a chance to practice—this was her first time doing it herself.
• As she crouched there, the water level rose, reaching her ankles and soaking her shoes completely. She focused on the wires, working calmly and carefully.