Glass Island, Lohar District.
Sherlock scrutinized his surroundings carefully, following a path from his memory to find the stinking ditch and the mountain of trash.
Perhaps due to the intensified wastewater discharge from the factory, compared with the abandoned chemical factory in his dreams, the domestic rubbish here had piled up even more, and the water had become even fouler. It nearly sealed off the road, emitting an unpleasant stench of decay. As Sherlock leaned in to examine the garbage, disturbed cockroaches began to crawl out from beneath the mountain of waste.
Edward, who walked behind him, stood tall with tightly furrowed brows.
He stared deeply at the mountain of trash, with an expression of disgust clearly not wanting to move closer.
"...How did you discover this place, Hermes?"
Edward asked, standing still.
"First-hand information from an advancement ritual, my partner,"
