Dusk, the setting sun was like blood.
The 'Bandage Swordsman,' with a blood-stained cloak, stepped out of Dar Alley and came onto Cork Street, tracing the elongated shadows of the buildings at twilight.
The rapidly rising yet increasingly spaced buildings created an intricate interplay of light and shadow.
When the blood-red sunlight shined on the 'Bandage Swordsman's' bloodstains, the filth within the blood became as dense as mud, making him appear like an Undead crawling from the earth.
When the profound darkness enveloped the 'Bandage Swordsman's' bloodstains, the blood within seemed to congeal like fire, giving the impression he was an Evil Spirit amidst blazing flames.
He did not belong to either light or darkness.
He did not belong to the human world.
He suddenly halted in his steps.
Because...
Smoke from cooking fires!
The lingering scent of cooking smoke, the ultimate taste of the human world.
He heard the bustling, urging voices from the kitchens.
