"This rag doll..."
Herag picked it up and gently dusted off the thick layer of dust covering it.
It was just an ordinary rag doll, not a Resentful Doll, nor was there anything unusual about it.
Herag looked at the doll, recalling everything he had experienced, and felt that something unfortunate might have happened to the Blacksmith Uncle's family and this town, otherwise they wouldn't find peace even in death.
He sighed and placed the rag doll back where it belonged.
Last night Herag hadn't noticed, but in the daylight, from the room's setup and color scheme, he could tell it was a little girl's room.
Herag looked around the room; it was about the same as last night, except many things were already in ruins.
For example, when he pulled the cabinet door, the whole thing fell off, having completely decayed.
Inside the cabinet, there were still some clothes, all belonging to a little girl.
After leaving the room, Herag stepped on the rotting stairs to the attic.
