January 1, 1351. New Year's Day.
At an intersection in Backlund's Bridge Borough, Old Kohler, wearing a thick jacket, hugged a bag of bread to his chest as he hurried toward the residential area on his left.
Nearby, many others like him were clutching food and hurrying home, having just collected it from various charity relief stations with their food coupons.
Ever since he had been saved by Miss Sharron, who was so beautiful she hardly seemed human, before last New Year's Day, Old Kohler had been sent to Pritz Harbor to help Miss Sharron's younger brother, Mr. Maric, look after his little daughter, Wenna.
Although Mr. Maric was a gang enforcer and looked frightening, after spending a long time with him, Old Kohler had learned that he was fundamentally a very kind and easygoing man. Miss Wenna was also an obedient and sensible child.
He had become friends with Detective Sherlock Moriarty not merely because he was Miss Sharron's brother.
They had originally lived well in Pritz Harbor that year, but the outbreak of war had thrown the port city into chaos. Even Miss Wenna's school had closed, so Mr. Maric had no choice but to move back to Backlund.
Old Kohler had returned with them to the city where the wind had risen last year, nearly blowing over this straw stalk of a man.
Thinking back on all that had happened over the past year, Old Kohler—clearly much sturdier than he had been a year ago, with a healthier flush in his face—sniffed and breathed in the scent of the bread in his arms.
"It smells wonderful! The bread handed out by the Braine Charity Foundation is really good. Miss Wenna will definitely like it." After sighing with emotion, Old Kohler quickened his pace into an alley and