When Shade returned home from his own basement, drenched from head to toe, it was already two in the morning on Tuesday.
Ignoring the water dripping from his clothes onto the floor, he hurried up the stairs, passed through the dim stairwell, and reached the second floor. He practically threw himself forward to push open the door, staggered into the kitchen, grabbed the biscuit tin that had been deliberately placed atop the cupboard to keep it from being stolen by the cat, and stuffed the slightly stale, damp biscuits into his mouth. Only then did he feel much better.
Drinking water had indeed filled his stomach just now, but the desire to eat something had not faded. Of course, that might also have been a side effect of overusing Gluttony. In any case, Shade was extremely hungry now.
Corresponding to that hunger, the exhaustion that had unconsciously surged up after returning home was gradually replacing it as his strongest emotion.
But no matter what he intended to do next, Shade first took a bath and changed clothes. Though this strange era was somewhat backward compared to his homeland, the development of the Steam Industry and the widespread network of steam and gas pipes made hot baths very easy.
After bathing, he had intended to sit on the sofa for a while before deciding whether to go out for food or visit Quill Street to see whether Miss Louisa's apartment was still lit. But once Shade leaned back against the sofa, the comfort made him close his eyes unconsciously.
So he said in his heart:
I'll just close my eyes and rest for a few seconds, then I'll get up immediately.
And so, amid the pleasant laughter of the woman in his mind, he fell directly into slumber.
Perhaps because he