The town was surprisingly... desolate.
No, that's not exactly the right word for it.
The streets were certainly bustling with activity; Seijirou could see vendors setting up stalls, children running between the stone lanterns, and men carrying heavy crates of supplies for the upcoming festival.
From a distance, it looked like a thriving hub of rural prosperity.
But as he stood there, watching the flow of the crowd, he realized that the energy was wrong.
It felt as if most of the people here were... mechanical.
It was very weird.
Their very movement seemed choreographed, and their every smile feels as if it was practiced, as if the entire population were actors on a stage performing for an audience that wasn't there.
There was also a lack of spontaneous noise—no rowdy laughter from the bystanders, and no genuine chatter between neighbors, instead, there was a low, rhythmic sound of coordinated labor.
Especially the old people.
