As the sun set, the peach-orange hue washed over the sky, gradually blending into violet. Cynthia wandered through the narrow alley in a daze, her thoughts elsewhere.
She couldn't shake the memory of the strange man she had encountered earlier. Following his thin figure, she had entered a shabby building, only to find herself in a shop brimming with magical items.
She recognized many of them—Vincent had filled his room with similar objects, and though she had never been particularly interested, she remembered his explanations well. Each time she visited him, he would eagerly explain their functions, and she had made an effort to understand, even if the details escaped her.
"You seem to know quite a bit about these," the man's voice broke her thoughts, startling her.
Cynthia flinched, turning sharply toward the shorter, elderly man. "Why did you bring me here?" she demanded, her glare sharp.
The man smiled faintly.
