In a dilapidated room, there was only one person sitting quietly.

His figure gives a kind of mysterious and vague atmosphere, although he is just sitting there, but the past overbearing breath still echoes violently in the whole space.

There is hardly any special furniture in the room, just an old wooden table and a single bookshelf.

On the left is a light stick that shines just across his body, but not on his face.

His hair was long and long, as if it hadn't been trimmed for many years, decadent as it was, but it seemed to have a free and easy feeling.

He was sitting there with something...