The official arriving at the City Hall earliest that morning was exactly Mayor Elric.
Since the day he was honored to inaugurate as the Mayor, every morning he maintained the habit of arriving half an hour earlier than everyone else to take advantage of skimming through the stack of documents needing to be processed during the day. Therefore he coincidentally was the first person seeing the strange man standing before the stone steps, his clothes smudged and soaking wet with mist, his two hands tightly gripping the frayed-brimmed hat.
Elric caringly stepped forward asking a few sentences, but the man just stammered unable to answer any sentence clearly. Asking for a name, he tremblingly said his name was Rudd, a commoner living in Oakhurst village. Asking what lawsuit matter he had coming here, he just absent-mindedly repeated back and forth several messy sentences having neither beginning nor end, about the whistling tune, about his wandering daughter, about the red wooden door.
