"No shit, Sherlock," Adrian replied, trying to smile but not feeling that happy. The hotel was a mess and the fact that the perpetrators hadn't bothered to conceal magic only made things worse. God only knew how many Muggles had fled before they'd gotten there.
"We're going to need a few, if only to help with the bodies," he said. The ones with the expelled entrails were worst for him as everybody knew such things were supposed to stay inside your body and that that curse had been used for nothing but fun.
"Which floors are they on?" he asked, making a note on the hotel floor plans he'd swiped from the manager. "So the slashed neck first and work our way up?"