In a small café located on the west side of Devrik, a quiet atmosphere enveloped the place.
The breeze that blew gently carried the scent of fresh rain, making the place feel even more peaceful.
At a table near the window, there were only two girls, accompanied by two cups of hot, fragrant coffee.
Beatrix, the girl with long hair and a warm smile, and Sherly, the quiet girl who appeared mysterious with a face that rarely changed expression.
Although they sat together, they didn't talk much. Their time here felt like a pause between the goal and the reality they were chasing.
"So, he just left?" Sherly asked, breaking the silence that had filled the café.
Her voice was calm, though there was curiosity hidden beneath it.
"Yes," the old man replied while looking at Sherly, "maybe about 30 minutes after he left." His voice sounded a bit disappointed.
They realized they had arrived too late.
The old man sitting in the corner of the café, the owner of the place, gazed at them with a concerned look.
In a low voice, he said,
"Yes, it's a pity. He's gone."
Beatrix took a deep breath and lowered her head.
They had just been chasing someone who was selling a rare King Arthur's diary, a book they had been desperately searching for.
However, by the time they arrived at the café, they were too late. The man they were looking for had already left, and now, their hopes seemed to fade.
"Are there any clues about where he might have gone, Uncle?" Beatrix asked hopefully.
Even though she knew there was a small chance the old man could help.
The old man didn't respond immediately.
His eyes shifted from Beatrix to Sherly, as if weighing his answer.
A few seconds passed before he finally spoke.
"He said... he'll be back tomorrow," the old man said quietly.
"Tomorrow?" Beatrix repeated, her eyes sparkling.
"So, we just need to come back tomorrow," Beatrix said, nodding her head.
Fate always gives a second chance.
Sherly simply nodded slightly, but her expression remained flat.
Then the old man spoke again.
"But," he continued, "he said tomorrow will be the last time he comes here. It seems he's leaving."
Those words made Beatrix pause.
The last time? Something in the old man's words sounded like worry.
Sherly, who rarely showed emotion, now glanced slightly at Beatrix, as if waiting for her reaction.
Upon hearing that the man they were looking for might be leaving for good, Beatrix felt a bit of pressure.
This wasn't just about the book. There was something deeper that made her feel like something was at stake.
"Tomorrow... we have to come tomorrow," Beatrix murmured, more to herself. "Tomorrow might be our best chance."
"Yeah, seems like it," the old man said with a thin smile, full of meaning. "Sometimes, the last chance comes without us realizing it."
Beatrix looked at Sherly.
They didn't know for sure what would happen, but one thing was clear—tomorrow was a day they couldn't miss.
"Alright," Beatrix said.
She then leaned back in her chair.
"There's nothing to worry about. We'll come back tomorrow. For now, let's just enjoy this coffee," Beatrix said with a smile.
Sherly just nodded.
Without saying a word, she sipped her coffee and stared out the window again, as if something distant caught her attention.
The café's atmosphere once again sank into silence, but for Beatrix, there was an odd feeling stirring within her.
Suddenly, Sherly, who was usually quiet, asked a question that made the café's mood shift slightly.
"Mister, hasn't this place felt strange lately?" she asked curiously.
Her eyes swept over the seemingly normal room, but something felt off.
Beatrix, sitting beside her, was a bit surprised.
"Strange?" Beatrix asked, confused by Sherly's unusual question.
Sherly continued,
"The West District has always been known for having fewer people compared to other districts. It's usually quiet. But recently... there's been something off."
Beatrix nodded, trying to understand. "Yeah, that's why this place feels so empty."
But Sherly shook her head firmly.
"I know, but it's more than just quiet. It's unnatural," she said seriously, her voice carrying an unusual tension in the air.
Upon hearing that, Beatrix fell silent, beginning to realize that something was wrong with their surroundings.
"But... if this isn't normal, why is no one noticing?" she thought to herself.
"What's really happening, Mister?"
Sherly asked, this time staring at the old man seriously, as if wanting to probe further.
The old man took a deep breath, hesitated for a moment, and then finally spoke.
"You must have heard the rumor... the Black Longa kidnappings."
"Black Longa?" Beatrix repeated, confused, not recognizing the name the old man had just mentioned. The name sounded strange and unfamiliar to her ears.
"Don't you know about Black Longa? It's a story that's been circulating in the city for the past few days. Quite terrifying," the old man said in a lower tone, as though finding it hard to continue.
Beatrix, who didn't know anything, felt a little awkward.
"Sorry, I just arrived in the city today," she said, feeling a bit embarrassed for not knowing what was being discussed.
Looking at Sherly beside her, Beatrix hoped maybe the girl knew more.
But Sherly just shrugged, answering confidently,
"I'm a real loner. I'm not interested in rumors or gossip like that. So I don't know anything."
Hearing Sherly's blunt answer, both Beatrix and the old man could only remain silent, amazed and confused.
Sherly's calm demeanor and indifference to the city's buzz had always puzzled many people.
Upon hearing the explanation, both Beatrix and the old man remained quiet, puzzled and astonished by Sherly's attitude.
But that also made her seem different, and somehow intriguing.
The old man then resumed the conversation seriously.
"In the past few days, the rumors about the kidnappings have been growing," he said in a serious tone.
He began recounting strange events that had been happening in Devrik.
In the past three days, dozens of people had disappeared without a trace.
Each kidnapping occurred at night, while the victims were asleep in their homes, and all happened without leaving any evidence behind.
"The people who have gone missing come from various backgrounds, ages, and genders," the old man continued. "This makes it difficult for us to understand the motives of the culprit."
The lack of evidence and unclear motives made it hard for investigators to track the perpetrator.
"That must be really difficult," said Beatrix, her face filled with sympathy. "I really feel for the people who've been kidnapped. They must be so scared."
"However, there's one eyewitness who saw the kidnapping," the old man said, his expression growing even more serious.
"Really? Someone saw it?" Beatrix asked, curious.
"Yes, a man saw a tall, dark figure enter his daughter's room," the old man answered. "His daughter was then sucked into that shadow, and the man was knocked unconscious."
"And since then, rumors about 'Black Longa' have been circulating," he added.
Beatrix, hearing this, tried to imagine the dark figure described.
The description felt familiar, as if she had heard or seen something similar before.
She paused for a moment, trying to remember something from her travels.
However, Sherly, who was also listening to the story, focused more on something else.
"But why is it called Black Longa?" Sherly asked, her expression flat.
"That name sounds so ridiculous."
Beatrix sighed at Sherly's question, while the old man could only smile bitterly.
It seemed Sherly cared more about the name "Black Longa" than the terrifying events that had been happening.
But after thinking about it, Beatrix realized that Sherly had a point. The name "Black Longa" did sound strange.
They all agreed that the name indeed sounded ridiculous.
"The first person who spread this rumor must not be good at naming things," Sherly said confidently.
Beatrix and the old man exchanged glances and then fell silent. They didn't know what to say.
"The first person who spread the rumor probably didn't have any talent in naming," Sherly said confidently, her face full of certainty.
Hearing that, Beatrix and the old man just exchanged a brief glance, speechless, not knowing what to say.
Suddenly, Sherly glanced at the old man with a sharper look, specifically at his arm.
"By the way, Mister, your arm muscles are quite impressive," Sherly said, an unexpected compliment.
The old man was a little surprised by Sherly's comment but then just nodded with a slight smile.
"Ah, it's just the result of hard work when I was young," he answered while patting his arm proudly.
It was clearly no ordinary muscle, showing years of hard training.
Even Beatrix, who was observing, couldn't help but admire it.
"Did you ever serve in the military, Mister?" Beatrix asked, curious.
The old man smiled awkwardly, his hand rubbing his head as if searching for the right words.
"I... I'm embarrassed to say, but I used to be a royal knight," he said hesitantly, his voice slightly ashamed.
Beatrix wasn't surprised by this, given the old man's trained physique.
"But... I had to retire from being a royal knight," the old man said, his expression growing somber, as if holding back bitter memories.
Recalling his last mission as a knight, the old man fell silent for a moment, his face looking heavier.
Everything was still fresh in his mind—the chaos that had unfolded, the tough decisions that had to be made.
"At that time, it really was a mess. It seemed there was no choice but to step down and find a new path," he continued, his gaze distant, his voice full of bitterness, which he tried to hide behind a thin smile.
Beatrix, seeing this, felt deep empathy.
She could sense that there was more to the old man's story than just a simple tale.
However, Sherly, who had also been listening carefully, suddenly shouted.
"Oh no!" she exclaimed, shocked. "My coffee's cold!"
Her concern wasn't about the story they had just heard, but rather about a cup of coffee that had lost its warmth.
The atmosphere, which had been serious and emotional, suddenly became absurd.
All the sadness that had surrounded them seemed to vanish, replaced by unexpected strangeness.
Beatrix and the old man could only smile in amusement at Sherly's behavior, as if she were a child, unconcerned with anything beyond her own world.
But suddenly, Sherly shifted their attention with a more serious statement.
"Oh, I just remembered. The man in the black cloak said something before he left," Sherly said casually, as if just remembering something unimportant.
Upon hearing that, Beatrix immediately focused on Sherly, though she knew Sherly often spoke in a playful manner.
"Before he left, if I'm not mistaken, he said he'd meet again when things were chaotic," Sherly continued, sipping her now-cold coffee.
Those words sounded like something someone would say just to make small talk, like a street poet spouting out poetic lines without any clear meaning.
But if Sherly had remembered it, then it must have meant something more than just a coincidence.
"But maybe it was just nonsense," Sherly added with a doubtful expression.
However, just as the once calm atmosphere shifted, all their attention snapped to a sudden change.
BOOOOM!!!!
The loud bang shook the air, startling the three of them.
Without hesitation, they rushed outside the café to see what had happened.
"That?..." Beatrix's voice trembled as her eyes widened, staring in the direction of the sound.
From the north, specifically in the northern district of Devrik, flames and smoke rose high into the sky.
Even though it was quite far away, the sight was clearly visible.
Sherly, who had seemed relaxed before, now wore a serious expression. The tension was clear on her face.
"Looks like that man wasn't just any poet," Sherly said with confidence, her eyes squinting as she observed the unfolding event.
***