Morry now sat inside the car of the man who had introduced himself as the partner of the body's original owner. The engine hummed steadily beneath them as the vehicle moved forward. Questions still swirled endlessly in Morry's mind, but he knew searching for answers right now would be pointless.
He turned his gaze toward the city outside the window.
The streets looked as though they belonged to the nineteenth century from his original world. Old fashioned automobiles rattled along stone roads, their engines loud and imperfect. Tall buildings lined the streets, built with heavy European style architecture, iron balconies, stone facades, and towering arches that cast long shadows under the dim sky.
It was unfamiliar.
And strangely captivating.
The city carried a quiet weight, a sense of age and history pressing down on it. For a moment, Morry almost forgot his confusion.
"This city is beautiful."
The words slipped out unconsciously as he continued to watch the passing streets. After a moment, he turned his head toward the man sitting beside him.
Blond hair, neatly kept. Brown eyes sharp yet calm. His posture was relaxed, as if sitting in a car surrounded by corpses earlier was nothing unusual.
His name was Arden Crow.
There was an old saying that you could never care for someone you did not know. But Morry was trapped in a far stranger situation. How was he supposed to get to know someone who already believed they were close, when Morry himself was nothing more than a stranger wearing another man's skin.
He swallowed, steadying his breathing, then spoke.
"So, Arden… what are we supposed to do now?"
Kael asked the question carefully, his voice carrying a trace of awkwardness and restrained nervousness. He was trying to play his role properly, afraid that even the smallest mistake might expose him.
Arden glanced at him briefly, one eyebrow lifting slightly.
"Arden?"
He paused, studying Morry's face.
"You rarely call me that."
There was no suspicion in his voice, only mild curiosity. After a moment, he leaned back against the seat and looked forward again.
"Well," he continued calmly, "we're heading back to the headquarters."
The car continued down the old stone road, its tires echoing through the narrow streets
The car finally came to a stop in front of a small café standing alone on the outskirts of the city. This part of town felt forgotten, as if the world itself had chosen to abandon it. Thick fog rolled endlessly through the narrow streets, wrapping around the buildings and swallowing the dim glow of streetlamps. The air was colder here, heavier, pressing against the lungs with every breath.
Arden turned off the engine. The sudden silence felt unnatural.
They stepped out of the car together. The sound of their footsteps echoed faintly against the wet stone pavement before fading into the mist. Morry slowly scanned his surroundings. The café's windows were dark, its sign creaking softly as it swayed in the cold wind. Beyond it, the city stretched into nothing but blurred shapes and shadows.
It was unsettling.
There were so many questions Morry wanted to ask. What was this place. Why here. What kind of people gathered in a town like this. But every question carried risk. One careless sentence could expose him as an outsider in his own body. And Arden, from what Morry had sensed so far, was not a man who relied on patience. He was the type who acted first, decisive and brutal, and only thought about explanations afterward.
Morry kept his expression steady.
"We're here, right?"
His voice came out confident, almost casual, as if this was a place he had visited countless times before.
Arden glanced around, his eyes sharp as they pierced through the fog.
"Yeah," he replied. "This is it."
He adjusted his coat slightly and began walking toward the café without hesitation.
Morry followed, his heart beating a little faster with each step. As they approached the entrance, he noticed faint sounds leaking from inside. Low voices. The clink of glass. The smell of bitter coffee mixed with something metallic lingered in the air.
This wasn't just a café.
It was a threshold.
The atmosphere inside the café was overwhelmingly lively. Loud laughter filled the air, mixed with cheers, clinking glasses, and the strong smell of alcohol. People crowded the tables, drinking heavily as if tomorrow did not exist. The place was warm, noisy, and chaotic, a sharp contrast to the cold fog outside.
On one side of the café sat a particularly loud table. A group of men were gathered around it, playing poker, coins and chips scattered messily across the wooden surface. They were gambling without restraint. Among them was a figure that stood out immediately.
A large man with a massive build and blazing red hair. His left eye was covered, hidden behind either a patch or a scarred lid, while his upper body was mostly bare, save for a single shoulder guard strapped tightly against his skin. His presence alone dominated the table.
"Elliot You cheated"
One of the players slammed his hand down, his face twisted with frustration after losing the round.
"Hahaha That's called technique idiot"
Elliot laughed loudly, mocking him without a hint of shame. As his laughter faded, his uncovered eye shifted, catching sight of Arden near the entrance.
"Woah You're back"
Elliot pushed his chair aside and stood up, his large frame drawing immediate attention. He strode toward Arden and Kael with confidence, and several pairs of eyes followed his movement across the room.
"Yeah"
Arden replied briefly, his tone flat and familiar.
Morry, on the other hand, remained stiff where he stood. The madness of the café overwhelmed him. The noise, the gambling, the drunken faces, it all felt too much. Elliot's physical presence alone was deeply intimidating. Cold sweat slid down the back of Morry's neck as his heart pounded harder with every passing second.
"Oh no, he's so fucking big! He's terrifying!"
But still, his pretend play was much more proficient and he was able to shake hands with Elliot quite well.
Arden's eyes looked at Morry, a little cynical, feeling something was odd.