Chapter 1: The Hidden Town

At five in the morning.

The sky was still dark, the entire town enveloped in the quiet of the night. Early birds perched on the branches of trees, chirping cheerful melodies.

Suddenly, two beams of light cut through the darkness, casting a large shadow over the night. The sound of an engine soon followed, and a small truck came to a halt at the town's entrance.

Out of the mist leaped a teenage girl with a ponytail, her movements light and confident.

The girl approached the driver's window and exchanged a few words with the middle-aged man. Together, they lowered the truck's ramp and unloaded a sleek silver motorcycle.

"Thank you so much, sir. Without your help, I might never have found Rosetown," said Anran, the girl, her voice sincere. She had a sweet face with bright, large eyes and deep dimples that appeared when she smiled, making her instantly likable.

"Ha! It's nothing. I've been delivering to Rosetown for twenty years, so I know this place like the back of my hand. But you're the first outsider I've seen come here," the driver replied with a hearty laugh. "Just follow this road to the end, and you'll find the address on your map. My delivery's in a different direction, so I won't be able to take you all the way."

"That's alright. I'm already grateful you brought me this far," Anran said with a smile. Now that she was in Rosetown, finding the house shouldn't be too hard.

"That bike of yours looks pretty sharp!" the driver remarked, eyeing the silver motorcycle with admiration.

"Oh, it's my pride and joy! Goodbye, sir."

Anran waved farewell to the cheerful driver, mounted her motorcycle, and sped off into the night.

Rosetown was a place unmarked on any regional map, tucked away in Y Province. Anran carried a hand-drawn map crafted by her grandfather. The town's layout was simple, with her grandfather's house located at the end of a quiet street. During the journey, she had studied the map so thoroughly that she had memorized it by now.

Rosetown, as it turned out, was her grandmother's birthplace.

Two years ago, her grandmother fell gravely ill. On her deathbed, she expressed her wish to return to her hometown. To honor her last request, her grandfather brought her ashes back to Rosetown and eventually settled there permanently. Concerned about their elderly father living alone in the countryside, Anran's family deliberated over the situation. Her father had to manage his martial arts school, and her mother was often away on business trips. So, the high school sophomore volunteered to move to Rosetown to keep her grandfather company.

As dawn approached, the thick fog began to dissipate, leaving behind a thin veil of mist.

Anran rode her silver motorcycle, its headlights shining brightly in the dim morning light. As she made her way through the town, the architecture caught her by surprise. Before arriving, she had expected Rosetown to be a quaint, underdeveloped village with modest red-brick cottages. Instead, the buildings were strikingly reminiscent of European-style towns, almost as if they had been designed by an ambitious developer.

In fact, Rosetown's architecture bore a resemblance to small towns in Scotland. The homes were two or three stories tall, each enclosed by quaint fences and surrounded by spacious gardens filled with blooming flowers. However, Rosetown's structures had a more weathered charm. Some houses were larger, fenced with wrought iron gates, and in the center of some gates hung white wreaths.

Why white wreaths? Wasn't that considered unlucky?

Curious, Anran approached one for a closer look. She realized the wreaths weren't made of ordinary flowers but of garlic blossoms, with a wooden cross set in the center.

It's only mid-September. Why are they already decorating for Halloween? Anran felt a slight unease but dismissed it as nothing.

She got back on her motorcycle and rode on without stopping. After about fifteen minutes, she finally arrived at the location marked on the hand-drawn map.

In the mist stood a slender figure. As her headlights pierced the darkness, the person raised an arm to shield their eyes from the blinding light…