The vagrant's words struck Joey as faintly sinister. The street, which had held only a handful of people to begin with, now seemed even eerier in the still night.
Countless eyes watched him, hiding themselves in the darkness.
"Wife dies, strike it rich. Son dies, strike it rich. All dead, all dead."
The vagrant grinned, his eyes suddenly losing focus and turning dull and vacant. He muttered nonsense, displaying none of a normal person's coherent thought. His body swayed, and before Joey could react, he darted into an alley and disappeared.
Only after the vagrant vanished completely into the darkness did the feeling of being watched by countless eyes begin to fade.
"One mouth fed, the whole family's full. Happy as can be~"
The voice seemed to remain at a fixed distance, faint but clear enough for Joey to hear.
"Hm?"
A shadow flashed through Joey's eyes. "Is he trying to get me to follow him?"
He raised his head slightly and looked in the direction where the vagrant had disappeared, as though trying to see through that curtain of darkness.
After a moment's hesitation, he decided to follow.
As he walked, he gradually realized something was wrong. After circling around and following the voice, he had somehow returned to the Black Church.
Beside the shrubs and weeds, the vagrant sat on the ground with a blade of grass between his lips, apparently waiting for Joey.
Joey walked straight over and studied him for a dozen seconds before saying:
"It wasn't safe back there, was it?"
"Ptoo." He spat out the grass and eyed Joey mockingly. "Not really. At worst, they'd just capture you and burn you to death."
"And that isn't dangerous? You old bastard, doesn't your conscience hurt when you say things like that?"
"How much would that