Annan narrowed his eyes slightly and walked forward at a leisurely pace.
He took a puff of smoke, and his thoughts gradually became clearer.
Fragments of information linked up rapidly in Annan's eyes.
—This might be the Curse Binding possessed by the master of this dream.
Does smoking improve thinking ability? Or is it the pipe? Or inhaling some kind of gas?
No... that's not important.
Annan forcibly used his own willpower to twist his off-track thoughts back on course.
Is this tendency to get sidetracked also a component of the Curse Binding?
Hmph.
"How fascinating,"
Annan chuckled softly, touching the stubble on his chin.
The middle-aged male detective issued a magnetic, methodical voice, "A true detective, huh? It must be a Hunter's profession after all.
"How many Curse Bindings do you hold to restrict your chain of actions? No... that too is unimportant."
Annan stopped thinking abruptly again and gently touched the white wall beside him.
