Ethan and Mark were ushered inside the warehouse. The air smelled of oil and metal, and you could hear machines humming in the distance.
"Nothing dangerous so far, right?" Ethan whispered the question to Mark.
Mark nodded before adding, "But never lower your guard."
The area was a maze of stacked crates, old equipment, and poorly lit hallways. It was both chaotic and meticulously organized, a testament to the dual nature of the operations likely taking place here.
As they walked, Ethan's sharp eyes darted around, taking in every detail. The placement of cameras, the positions of additional guards, the locations of potential exits, all of it was committed to memory with uncanny precision.
'Lucky for me to have purchased that potion,' Ethan thought.
His recently unlocked eidetic memory allowed him to catalog the environment effortlessly, storing each piece of information for later use.
