Once Lucy reached the clothes shop a few meters away, she saw a row of flashing police cars.
Mike sat on a car seat, shivering beneath a blanket, officers talking to him.
"I—I…" he tried to speak, but only a broken sound escaped.
Another officer patted him. "Don't worry, buddy. At least you're safe."
Lucy's father watched them with his arms crossed, his face tightened with worry.
"Dad!!" Lucy rushed toward her father.
"Lucy! Thank God you're safe." He spread his arms, letting Lucy fall into an embrace.
"See? Even the girl is back safe! Mike, don't worry about it," the officer said.
Mike's eyes darted around, unfocused , like he wasn't entirely grounded yet.
"Where's she?" Lucy's father asked, instinctively tightening his grip during the hug, relief flooding through him even though his jaw remained tense.
"It's a secret." Lucy lifted her head, a small playful shush escaping her.
The place was filled with police cars, radios clattering to the pavement, and officers running between them. Someone approached.
His radio slipped from his hand.
"I… I was late…" Joe's voice cracked as he spoke.
A hush fell between the officers closest to him, their movements slowing for just a moment.
"Joe… you okay?" someone asked, instinctively reaching for his shoulder, unsure whether to steady him or question him.
The grey bird that had been watching Frieren stared at her for a moment, then flapped its wings twice; feathers drifting lazily in the air.
Frieren stepped lightly through the doorway, her gaze skimming over the cameras placed above the hotel entrance. She didn't spare them a thought; the door opened on its own the moment she approached.
She blinked once, more from habit than surprise, she'd watched countless dungeon gates behave the same way.
She paused, letting the quiet hum of machinery settle in her ears.
"It felt less like a door, more like a relic responding to her presence."
Frieren stepped inside without a change in expression.
A faint cool breeze curled out from the hallway ahead, carrying the sterile scent of hotel air.
Her cloak brushed softly against the floor, the only sound breaking the mechanical quiet.
Somewhere deeper inside, a single elevator hummed faintly, and a set of old stairs led into a dark tunnel.
She stepped toward the stairs.
Once she climbed them, she reached the terrace and let out a quiet sigh.
Frieren's eyes wandered briefly across the terrace, her gaze sweeping over each table and figure, as if cataloging them. As she observed people talking, a woman passed by her.
"Hey… are you invited?" the woman asked, her voice laced with confusion.
The question barely registered; Frieren's eyes remained calm, unflinching.
Things really do get unnecessarily complicated… she thought.
Her lips pressed lightly together before she pivoted away.
The soft clinking of cutlery and murmured conversation barely reached her ears, drowned in her own thoughts.
The sun had begun to set, its golden light painting the buildings in warm hues.
Frieren stepped to the edge of the terrace, resting her hands lightly on the railing, and noticed that the bird she had seen earlier had vanished from view.
She allowed herself a brief pause, letting the quiet settle. "For the humans, the evening had lingered; for Frieren, it flickered by like a candle's breath."
The scent of freshly cleaned tables filled the terrace.
The crowd thinned, tables and chairs were collected. The cleaner's hand brushed her cloak lightly, and she turned without haste, observing him for a moment.
He paused.
"Can I help you with something? You've been here for hours…" he asked.
"Can you take me to the inn's owner?" she said.