As if following a certain law, everything in the world seems to possess duality, light and dark, good and evil. Beneath Free Port's prosperity, there hides a sinister force that spills blood and spreads chaos, emerging each time night falls.
Unlike those who tremble at the sight of darkness, Hert has become accustomed to coexisting with it, even battling against it.
Hert can hear the sound of rats scurrying behind the walls and the faint buzz of mosquitoes' wings. In the distance, the crash of ocean waves resounds. The room is filled with the moist stench of decay, large patches of mold clinging to the walls, as if the entire building is dying from the dampness.
He plunged his hands into the icy bucket of water, where dead insects floated alongside foul-smelling impurities. Hert vigorously scrubbed his palms, striving to wash away the bloodstains and fish scales.
