September 18th, Wednesday, 03:03, Rasvel Street, Near the Sunners Building:
//Song: Samba De Wilson//
The night hung in eerie stillness, shrouding the deserted street in an air of mystery. Gas lamps cast feeble pools of light, offering the only illumination.
A figure emerged, cloaked in a dark purple suit, its hues shifting subtly with the play of faint illumination from gas lamps. Beneath it, a suit vest, slightly lighter in colour. A crisp white shirt, textured with subtle black lines, cradled by a deep purple bow tie, completed the ensemble.
Muttering to himself in a disjointed stream of consciousness, he ambled forward, his eyes fixed on the Sunners building, bearing the number 4.
"Wouldn't it be delightful to set it ablaze?" his voice, like gravel on glass, rasped through the night.
