After a voyage, Lorne finally disembarked in Backlund's bustling Port District.
"Backlund's weather really is as awful as ever. It doesn't even compare to being out at sea." He looked up at the gray sky shrouded in industrial smoke and couldn't help complaining.
"Meow." Lucky poked her little head out of his backpack too, curiously surveying the city she hadn't returned to in so long.
Lorne first stopped at a small roadside restaurant for a simple lunch of oatmeal bread and fried sausage.
Then he hailed a hackney carriage and headed straight for the all-too-familiar address of 69 Rose Street.
Standing before the familiar dark-brown-painted door, Lorne first looked down to inspect his current appearance.
He had already put away the Disguise Cufflink. Apart from his hair, which was still black because the dye hadn't completely faded, and his face, which looked somewhat weathered after everything he had been through, the rest of him should have been fine, right?
He raised his hand and knocked gently.
But there was no response from inside.
Was Mrs. Griffin out?
Somewhat puzzled, Lorne knocked again, harder this time.
"Who is it-?"
A moment later, a muffled voice, heavy with drowsiness and displeasure, finally came from inside.
"Ah-don't you know it's rude to interrupt someone's afternoon nap?"
Afternoon nap...
Hearing the complaint from inside, Lorne couldn't help twitching the corner of his mouth.
Why did it feel as though Mrs. Griffin was asleep all the time?
Another ten or so seconds passed before the door creaked open a crack.
"Who is it?"
Mrs. Griffin's sleepy face emerged through the gap. Her gaze landed on the unfamiliar fellow outside, with his short black hair and the faint air of danger hanging about him.
Lorne was just about to greet her when he noticed her drowsy