Fos, the Salted Fish, lay on her bed, racking her brains over her novel's plot when vague, frenzied murmurs of eating suddenly surfaced in her mind.
At first, the murmurs were like someone whispering incessantly in her ear and had little effect. But as time passed, they gradually began to affect her mind, giving her headaches and the feeling that her psyche was being torn apart.
Caught completely off guard, she instantly let out an uncontrollable scream.
In the living room, Xio had been planning for their future when she heard Fos scream. She immediately rushed to Fos's door and asked, "Fos? What's wrong? Fos?"
When half a minute passed without any reply from Fos, Xio chose to force the door open.
When she entered, she found Fos sprawled weakly across the bed, clutching several long strands of hair in her hand as if she had just torn them out by force.
June 30, 1348. As spring winds gradually faded and the heat of summer began to rise, summer quietly arrived. Bexland's Queen District also welcomed its most important and special season of the year: the Bexland Social Season.
Every evening, one lavishly decorated mansion after another would blaze with light through the night. Crystal chandeliers lit the marble halls as brightly as day, while gilded mirror frames, velvet curtains, silver candlesticks, and flowers scattered across the floor built an opulence that never faded.
Men wore sharp formal suits and evening attire, jeweled boutonnières pinned to their chests. Holding champagne flutes or cigars, they talked about stocks, real estate, horse racing, and women, their laughter frivolous and languid.
Women wore magnificent gowns supported by whalebone corsets, precious necklaces of rubies, pearls, diamonds, and other gems hanging at their bare shoulders. Their skirts swept across costly carpets, while the scents of