Two hundred ninety-three. Jojo's Trace

```

Whoosh—

The cold of the torrential rain seemed to penetrate into the marrow.

Jojo walked quickly towards the direction where the carriage had departed, her belly under the rain cloak bulging, supporting it with her palm underneath.

Only by doing this could she prevent the leather paper and food from getting soaked by the downpour.

Cold steak wouldn't taste good.

"23, 25, 27..."

With the help of the streetlight's halo, Jojo walked forward, peering at the reflective numbers on the buildings to her side.

There was not a single person on the streets, and the sound of rain and the sharp whistling of the wind scraping over the rooftops filled her ears, raindrops pattering hard against the rain cloak.

"31, 33, 3..."

The streetlight beside her flickered a few times, preventing Jojo from making out the numbers on the wall clearly.

Jojo could guess what they were and walked straight past, continuing forward, but a few seconds later, her steps suddenly halted.