Strolling along the clean, bustling street, Erika felt somewhat dazed.Sunlight, color, fragrance, crowds—this was practically another world.
A sense of almost unfamiliar "normalcy" wrapped around him, making his steps feel light and unreal, as if he were walking on clouds that might vanish at any moment.
Passing by a shop with a soft fabric sign, his gaze was caught by several garments displayed in the window.
The material looked fine and smooth, shimmering with a gentle matte glow beneath carefully placed glowstones.The cut was sharp and well-fitted, adorned with simple yet refined metal fastenings.
Compared to his own white robe, it was—
He stopped unconsciously.
Leaning against the cool glass of the shop window, his face nearly pressed to it, he stared blankly at the fine clothes inside.His fingertips absentmindedly traced the glass surface, leaving several blurred marks.
Thunk.
The back of his head was knocked—not lightly.
"Ahem."Cole's voice came from beside him, carrying a hint of amusement."Lesson two."
Erika shrank his neck, rubbed the spot, his face heating slightly.He pulled his gaze back with effort and looked at Cole.
"So… what do we do next?"
Cole had already walked a few steps ahead.He turned back and pointed toward the now westering sun.
"If you don't want to sleep in the outer city tonight,"he paused, his tone flat yet leaving no room for argument,"keep up."
Outer city.
That stretch of ruins, thick with the smells of rust and decay.
Erika absolutely did not want to sleep there.Just imagining spending the night in that darkness and silence sent a chill up his spine.
And hadn't Cole said this place was "wrong"…
Could it be—?
Erika's heart tightened, and he didn't dare follow the thought further.
He cast one last, almost greedy glance at the window—at the deep blue coat that looked the most fitted—then blinked hard, as if trying to banish that illusory sense of "respectability" from his mind.
He tugged his empty right sleeve tighter, quickened his pace, and followed Cole's not-particularly-tall back through the crowd.
The stone-paved road stretched beneath their feet.People surged around them.The noise never ceased.
Yet Erika knew—
They had to find a place to stay before nightfall,within this seemingly prosperous "other world."
"What about the other white-robed men earlier?"Erika couldn't help asking, his eyes sweeping over the relatively tidy passersby."How do… they spend the night?"
Cole didn't turn.
"Lesson one."
The phrase was sharp and final, used to block all unnecessary questions.
Erika choked on the reply.
The hollow, twisting pain in his stomach grew more pronounced.He hadn't eaten since that bowl of nauseating gruel.
The slanted sun had taken some of the heat with it, making the hunger even clearer.
"I'm hungry,"he licked his cracked lips, his voice lower."When can we find food?"
Cole kept walking, his tone unchanged.
"Lesson one."
Lesson one—again.
Erika felt a tightness in his chest.
He looked at the bustling scene around him—this white-robed, empty-sleeved "stinking outsider"—the fragrant flatbread stall,the cooked-meat shop with glistening cuts of flesh,the carts piled high with fresh fruits and vegetables…
Each sight stabbed at his shrunken stomach and something deeper—a longing.Between him and all of it lay a transparent, cold pane of glass.
"Boss…"he couldn't help murmuring again, his voice carrying a trace of grievance and urgency he himself hadn't noticed.
But before he could finish—
"Ah—!!!"
A sharp, piercing, utterly terrified woman's scream exploded from a side street ahead.
It was so sudden, so shrill, it instantly tore through the street's humming noise.
For a moment—
All other sounds vanished.
Calls, laughter, conversations, bargaining—everything stopped, as if someone had hit mute.Even the wind seemed to pause.
The illusion of prosperity receded like a tide, revealing a cold undertone beneath.
People on the street stopped in unison.Their expressions froze, shifting from ease, busyness, and indifference into a uniform, stiff blankness edged with fear.
Everyone turned their heads toward the scream.
The movement was unnervingly synchronized.
Silence.
Only faint sounds from a distant street drifted in, emphasizing the absolute quiet here.
"Ah—!!!"
Another scream.
Nearly identical—but louder, shorter, more desperate.
The tail of the sound seemed cut off mid-air, leaving behind a trembling aftertaste that made the silence feel heavier.
Erika's heart slammed against his ribs.Blood rushed to his head.
He looked uneasily at Cole beside him.
Cole showed no panic.
He raised his right hand, curling his fingers slightly, holding it before his eye like a crude telescope.Slowly, carefully, he scanned toward the direction of the screams, as if trying to see through the dense, frozen crowd and the gaps between buildings.
Seeing this, Erika subconsciously copied him.
He raised his functioning left hand to his brow, shielding the slanted sunlight, nervously peering ahead.
The street remained silent.The crowd remained frozen.Long shadows stretched across the stone.
The scent of baked bread hadn't yet fully faded, now mixed with a new, cold smell of fear.
A third scream never came.
But the crushing stillness left behind by those torn screams—and the statue-like response of the crowd—felt more suffocating to Erika than any continuous noise.
His hand remained raised.His fingertips were cold.
Erika wasn't tall, and his bulky, ill-fitting white robe didn't help.Packed among shifting bodies, even on tiptoe, he could see only bobbing heads, shoulders, backs—no clear view of the source of the screams.
After a while, conversation, footsteps, and the clatter of goods resumed, quickly filling the air again.
It was as if those two heart-rending screams had been a collective hallucination—a brief, ignorable interruption.
"What the…"Erika muttered.
His tense nerves eased slightly with the swift "return to normal," but a deeper confusion and unease surfaced.
Too strange.
Those screams had felt far too real.
He turned to look at Cole, hoping for confirmation—an explanation.
Cole hadn't lowered his hand.
He still held that slightly ridiculous yet intensely focused pose, neck stretched forward, his gaze like an awl trying to pierce the human wall and buildings ahead.
But now—
At the corner of his mouth was a clear, amused curve.
The smile was faint in the slanted sunlight,but it made Erika's heart skip.
"Don't rush, Erika,"Cole's voice came lightly, even leisurely.
Then Cole turned fully toward him.
He reached out and placed his palm gently against Erika's chest—right over the spot where his heart was pounding wildly beneath the robe.
The pressure wasn't heavy,but it carried an unmistakable, guiding force.
"Take it slow,"Cole said, applying a bit more steady push while shifting his own body, guiding Erika sideways.
Erika was pushed along—
his back brushing rough fabric,his heel knocking against uneven stone—
until his back hit the cold, solid stone wall of a roadside building with a heavy thump.
The impact forced a grunt from him, sending a numb shock up his spine.
Retreat was completely cut off.
He stood with his back against the wall, Cole smiling in front of him, while the uncaring crowd continued to flow past on both sides.
Cole withdrew his hand and unhurriedly patted the dust from his own robe.
Then he lifted his gaze, looking past Erika's shoulder, quickly scanning the wall above and to either side behind him.
His smile deepened.
"Lucky us,"Cole said lightly, like someone who'd drawn a good lot—or found a perfect viewing spot.
Erika stood pressed against the cold wall, watching Cole's expression.
The two eerie screams.The crowd's instant freeze and recovery.Being "pinned" here.
A chill began creeping slowly up his spine.
What exactly did Cole mean by "lucky"?
Finding a safe place to observe?
Or—
something else entirely, far harder to grasp.