Chapter 42
Dim twilight spilled over Rasna City, washing the crowded streets in fading gold. People flowed through the roads with easy laughter and lively faces. Shops were still loud. Voices still high. Even with the sun long gone, the city refused to sleep. It breathed. It pulsed. Just as alive as it had been during the day.
Amidst the moving crowd, one figure stood out like a stain that would not wash away.
Not because he looked inhuman. Not because he acted suspicious.
But because he did not belong.
White and black hair whipped in the air, strands fluttering like they shared his misery. His steps were heavy. His shoulders slumped. Low muttering slipped from his lips, broken and bitter, the kind that made people instinctively steer away.
"…wretched bastard… thief… why take all of them and leave me with none…"
That miserable soul was Gazel.
