The streets of the city were buzzig loudly.
People wandered around in every direction, the scent of roasted nuts and fried mana-fish mixing with the acrid tang of vinegar.
Huge signs blinked above every shop, some flashing discounted market prices while others projected moving holograms of celebrities I didn't recognize.
And in the middle of it all, there I was, cloaked in a long grey coat that dusted against the pavement, and a huge, ridiculous hat that covered half my face.
Every step I took echoed lightly under my boots, the storage ring on my finger pulsing faintly from the artifacts it held.
I probably looked like a cosplaying detective trying too hard to stay low-key.
'And it clearly wasn't working,' I thought.
People glanced at me like I was some weirdo while small kids kept pointing their fingers on my hat.
I even heard someone whisper, "What's with the walking funeral?"
"…"
