Rainy day.
Outside the window, the rain fell continuously and finely, tapping rhythmically as it splashed against the window sill, creating countless droplets.
A little girl was perched at the window, wiping the sill with a rag while absentmindedly watching the neon lights in the distance, where a shapely woman danced in the rain beside a billboard advertising a virility-enhancing drug.
Mia and Miel stood there gazing at her, dumbfounded.
Medea was gone, or rather, Rasul had never intended to brief her on the affairs of the Revolutionary Army. Only Mia and Miel had been teleported to this apartment room of about 30 square meters.
The air was thick with a damp, musty odor, and clothes belonging to both children and adults were hung to dry at the air conditioner vents, showing that the homeowner was not one to appear rich or affluent.
Especially when there were four children to take care of.
