After the woman in the heavy, layered black dress left the street, a beggar curled up in a sheltered corner suddenly began coughing. Clutching his throat, he made hoarse, rasping sounds, collapsed to the ground, and reached out to passersby for help.
The pedestrians passing by recoiled in terror, afraid he had pneumonia and that they might catch it. But they soon joined the coughing themselves, coughing until they could no longer walk or catch their breath.
Fog spread through the air. Workers, beggars, elderly people, and children all along the route the woman had taken kept falling ill and collapsing, like straw stalks blown over by the wind.
"Move aside! Move aside!"
The carriage raced onward as Levtor, driving it, kept roaring at the pedestrians blocking the way.
His fierce tone and towering figure made the people on the street afraid to stop him. They hurriedly moved aside.
Inside the carriage, Enilu said worriedly, "Sifa, tell your friend to slow down. We don't need to hurry this much. It would be terrible if we hit someone."
Sifa smiled but did not do as his mother said. "It's all right, Mom. Bal knows what he's doing. He won't hit anyone."
Just then, he vaguely heard coughing. At first there were only one or two coughs, but they quickly blended into a chorus. Sifa hurriedly looked outside and saw people constantly collapsing in the street behind them.
It was as if people had suddenly fallen ill with severe bronchitis, coughing violently before swiftly falling silent.
Sifa's heart immediately grew heavy.
It had begun.
Backlund's Great Smog Incident!
Today was not the time indicated by the Watcher, but Sifa knew that the fragments of information he had sent out through various channels must have taken effect. At the same time, they had