Observing Lumian's silence, Michel spoke with anxiety creeping into her voice.
"If you're not willing, I can find someone else."
"Who should I look for… They don't really like us. They can't stand our foul odor…"
That was precisely why she sought out Lumian, a leader of the mob. Lumian and Charlie were the only ones at Auberge du Coq Doré who could calmly communicate with the couple, but Charlie had already left.
Glancing at the short and hunched figure of Madame Michel, Lumian let out a sigh and responded.
"I'll go and check it out."
Still perplexed, he walked past Madame Michel, hastened up to the second floor, and entered Room 302.
The place was filled with various kinds of rubbish, emitting an indescribable stench. Lumian raised his hand, pinching his nose, and maneuvered his way through the cramped space, barely fitting a single person, until he reached the yellowish and greasy bedsheet.
