Backlund's nights always seemed deeper than elsewhere. Beneath the night sky shrouded in thick fog, a ghostlike figure drifted silently along the streets of the South Bridge District.
The slow-paced South Bridge District had little nightlife. Only the dim yellow lights filtering through the darkness indicated that people still lived within those rooms.
Stepping through the faint yellow glow cast by the streetlamps, the figure made its way to Riverbend Avenue. Looking at the house ahead, from which not a trace of light shone, its entire body seemed to melt, flowing through the gap beneath the gate and into the detached residence.
At that moment, the furniture in this detached villa—which, if placed in Hillston Borough, would likely require a monthly rent of ten pounds just to qualify to live in it—was clearly quite valuable, yet it had gathered a layer of dust. Tables and chairs made from precious wood had been piled haphazardly against the walls, as though merely to keep them out of the way.
The dust on the floor was not particularly thick, suggesting the owner had not been gone long. Yet quite a few seemingly valuable items had been left behind, seemingly indicating that the owner had departed in a hurry.
The flowing figure resumed human form. It walked while looking around, eventually reaching the second floor. After pushing open door after door, it finally revealed a bedroom that seemed all the darker under the dim yellow streetlight outside the window.
The dolls, large and small, had been carefully positioned so that they all seemed to be looking at whoever stood outside the door. Although he had been prepared, the sight still startled him.
"Art!" The figure passed each doll in turn, looking at the life-sized girl dressed in an ornate lace gown, as lifelike as