Knock! Knock!
The short knock had barely sounded when the tightly shut door suddenly creaked open by itself.
Outside, Owen stared curiously at the door that had opened on its own, then looked at Cyril.
"How did you do that? Is this some kind of trick?"
"Not really."
Cyril, seated on the sofa, shook his head slightly and pointed behind the door, where Owen couldn't see.
"There's a Creature in the Painting behind the door. It can take care of things like opening and closing it."
After a brief pause, he looked toward the refined, scholarly middle-aged man behind Owen.
"And who is this?"
"Oh, he's from our Abra—"
"Hello. My name is Verdu Garcia."
The refined, scholarly middle-aged man behind Owen interrupted him. He studied Cyril for a moment, then smiled and nodded.
"Grandpa Owen's generation was a branch of our family that split off. We only recently got in touch, and I didn't expect him to be the only one left in this branch.
"I originally planned to take him back to Midseashire, but he wasn't keen on it. As his senior, I'm not comfortable leaving him on his own, so I wanted to learn a little about his life and social circle in Backlund."
As he spoke, his gaze fell on the three steaming cups on the coffee table in front of Cyril. He paused, then asked in surprise,
"It seems you already knew we were coming to visit?"
Cyril nodded slightly. "I did a Divination for myself a short while ago."
Owen looked at Verdu, whose expression had turned distinctly strange and wary, and spoke a little awkwardly.
"Uh... Mr. Verdu, Cyril knows about the Abraham Family. He knows you, too."
"He was there when I summoned my messenger yesterday. He even helped me open the