The room was brightly lit.
The moment the door opened, they felt a warm and comfortable sensation. It formed a stark contrast with the howling wind, darkness, dampness, and cold outside on the street.
But the three of them did not go in.
It was too quiet.
The hall was packed, so full that it could be called overcrowded.
That was normal.
It was a windy night.
Many people who had not made it home in time had taken shelter in the nearest tavern.
That made perfect sense.
But.
Why was it so quiet with so many people seated inside? Every person sat motionless in their chair, either staring at the tabletop, looking ahead, or narrowing their eyes.
No one spoke.
Not a single sound or movement came from anyone.
The only sound in the tavern was a soothing piece of music drifting from somewhere unknown. It resembled the local indigenous style of Gray Mist Port.
Ancient.
Somber.
Its rhythm was strange.
Yet it made people sink into it involuntarily, following the music into ruin.
"Something's wrong!"
Third Mate stopped.
His gaze shifted to a table in the left corner of the hall. Several men dressed as sailors were gathered around it. They were the same companions who had gone ashore with them.
From those men's angle of vision, the three of them should have been clearly visible.
Yet there was no reaction whatsoever.
They completely treated the three of them like air, as though the three people standing in the doorway did not exist.
Under normal circumstances, that was absolutely impossible!
"Go!"
Third Mate retreated with a dark expression. The hand gripping the door slowly pulled it shut.
Just as the door was about to close.
A woman dressed as a server came from somewhere, carrying a tray with