Returning to my hideout through the biting snowstorm, I found that my painstakingly arranged base had been transformed into a frozen storage locker.

Caught off guard, I blinked in confusion before silently screaming in horror. A sudden gust of icy wind tore through my clothes, sneaking in through every crevice.

"Ugh, being up high really sucks when it’s windy," I grumbled, pulling my coat tighter around me as I cautiously scanned the darkness.

I found my battered, secondhand flashlight amidst the chaos on the floor, giving it a few solid taps until it flickered to life.

"…Wow, what a disaster."

The dim, unreliable beam revealed the extent of the chaos. It looked like someone had scooped up piles of snow outside and dumped them liberally throughout the room.

Shielding my face from the piercing wind, I carefully moved deeper into the hideout, surveying the damage. After a short investigation, I identified the culprit: a shattered window.

Somewhere between leaving and returning, something had completely destroyed the window, allowing snow and wind free access inside.

"This feels like a bolt from the blue. What even happened here?" I muttered, peering cautiously out of the broken window. Below, I noticed a mangled air conditioning unit, now resting awkwardly on the ground.

"Could the heavy snowfall have caused the unit to fall? And it just had to smash through this window?"

I sighed heavily, shutting my eyes. How unlucky could I be?

Even in a neglected area like this, where no one lived and maintenance was nonexistent, the odds of the neighbor’s air conditioning unit specifically crashing into my hideout were astronomically unfair.

Frustrated, I stamped my feet but soon resigned myself with a weary shrug.

There was no use crying over spilled milk—or shattered windows. The past couldn’t be undone. What mattered now was figuring out how to deal with the situation.

"…Well, maybe this is a blessing in disguise. I was putting off moving anyway, and now I’ve got a reason to go."

Thankfully, I wasn’t particularly attached to this place. After all, I didn’t call it a home but a “base” for a reason. Calling it a home would’ve made it feel too precious, which wasn’t ideal for something I knew I’d eventually leave behind.

The solution was straightforward: pack up everything and find a new base.

Of course, this building was a write-off; there weren’t any undamaged floors left. I’d need to search other buildings in the area. But surely the western ruins had to have at least one secluded, undisturbed spot.

"I was already considering moving because of the cold. This just pushes up the timeline a bit. That’s all… huh?"

Crunch.

The confident grab I made for my sleeping bag was met with a foreboding sensation. What should’ve been soft and inviting felt stiff and brittle.

"It's… frozen," I muttered, realization dawning with a shiver.

The icy draft swirling through the base sent a chill down my spine.

Five minutes of inspecting my belongings confirmed my worst fears: the damage was catastrophic.

"Most of my stuff is ruined. The bed and sleeping bag are write-offs. As for clothes, I’m left with just the winter pajamas I’m wearing, my coat, and the maid uniform at Greg’s shop… everything else is destroyed."

It seemed the window had broken shortly after I left for work, letting snow pile up inside. The snow had melted, soaked everything, and then refrozen, turning my possessions into icy blocks.

Sure, I could dry it all out and salvage what I could, but where was I supposed to do that? If I had access to a warm, dry space, I wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with!

"What now? Where am I supposed to sleep tonight? If I try to camp outside in this weather, I’ll end up a frozen dinner entrée. Should I build an igloo?"

Crossing my arms, I sank into thought.

My frozen belongings were a lost cause for now. I couldn’t snuggle into a frozen sleeping bag and expect to wake up alive. That much was certain.

So, should I wander the ruins to find a new base with nothing but the clothes on my back? Things were looking bleak.

…Or were they? I had one last option, a safety net I could fall back on.

Slipping a hand into my coat pocket, I pulled out a small key—Greg’s shop key.

"I could crash at the shop for the night…"

But I didn’t like the idea. Greg was my benefactor. I didn’t want to impose on him any more than I already had.

This key was a symbol of trust Greg had extended to me. Imagine entrusting a key to someone you barely knew—it had to have weighed heavily on him.

If I were to sell off the shop’s valuables and disappear, Greg would be helpless to do anything about it while abroad. Not that I’d ever do such a thing, but the thought of abusing his trust didn’t sit right with me.

"And Greg’s already done too much for me. If I take any more from him, I might just die of guilt."

He’d helped me when I was a fugitive, given me durable clothes that money couldn’t buy, a mask to hide my face, and even secured me a part-time job at the agency.

If anyone deserved to be called a savior, it was Greg. And taking advantage of his generosity by treating his shop like my personal refuge? Unthinkable.

"No. That’s a last resort. Only if I have no other choice."

After all, no principle was worth freezing to death over. I’d keep it in mind as my absolute fallback plan, but I’d do everything I could to avoid it.

Clutching the key tightly for a moment, I returned it to my pocket.

"Alright, where am I going to spend the night in this blizzard?"

It was time to think. Surely, with the sheer amount of abandoned buildings in the ruins, I could find one to shelter me tonight.

Fueled by a determination not to burden Greg any further, I steeled myself for the challenge ahead.

*

“Still no news about the ghost? Even the smallest lead would help...”
“Not that I’ve heard. You might want to ask Gilbert over there. He’s always on top of rumors like that.”
“Oh… okay. Thanks. Have a good day.”

Having gotten that answer, Alice stepped out of the shop with a small sigh.

It had been over two weeks since the Night of Bloodshed, and she’d been chasing any sign of the ghost during that time. Yet, the ghost seemed to have vanished without a trace, as if it had never existed.

Could it have slipped away from Nighthaven entirely after that night?
The longer Alice pursued the ghost, the more she felt like a child chasing a rainbow.

“Another day with nothing… Maybe I should scale back to checking once a week.”

If the ghost had already left the western ruins, then all of Alice’s efforts were for nothing. Her determination to uncover the ghost’s identity was steadily wearing thin with each passing day.

Her stomach growled, protesting loudly at her decision to forgo a meal in favor of her search. Surrendering to practicality, Alice decided to leave the task to her future self and trudged toward a nearby diner.

“Three cheese steak sandwiches, please.”
“Sure. Want me to cut them in half? They’re a bit long.”
“No, I’ll take them as is.”
“Three cheese steak sandwiches, coming up! Here you go.”

Alice accepted the arm-length sandwiches and left the shop. She unwrapped one and bit into it immediately.

For someone of her average frame, the portions were substantial, but her speed of consumption was remarkable. To passersby, it looked as though the food was vanishing into her mouth at double speed—a sight that drew no small amount of attention.

Mmm. Eating in the snow does have its own charm.
As Alice made her way out of the western ruins, she spotted something—or rather, someone—who shouldn’t have been there.

“...Yuria?”

A familiar black coat, flowing silver hair like spun silk, and the faint glimpse of a fox mask. Even from a distance, it was unmistakable. It was Yuria.

What on earth is she doing in such a dangerous place?
Alice’s thoughts raced as she suddenly remembered Yuria’s first visit to the office with Greg.

Greg’s shop is close to the western ruins. Could she have gotten lost on her way back?

The idea that Yuria might be living in the ruins didn’t even cross Alice’s mind.

How could it? To Alice, Yuria was the adorable and delicate youngest member of the office, someone who’d clearly come from a well-off family. The notion of a young girl like her surviving in such a perilous area was unthinkable.

But as Alice drew closer, her expression grew more serious.

Snow clung to Yuria’s body, and her small frame shivered slightly as she trudged along. She’d clearly been outside for quite some time.

Why is she wandering alone in the cold, in such a dangerous place?
Alice felt a pang in her chest, an unexplainable ache, as she quickened her pace toward Yuria.

“Yuria!”
“...!”

Yuria turned abruptly, startled by Alice’s sudden call. Her reaction made her seem almost guilty, like someone caught in a place they weren’t supposed to be.

That’s exactly what I want to ask you, Alice thought, biting her lip as she reached out with warm hands to touch Yuria’s ears and neck.

“She’s freezing! How long has she been out here?”

Yuria’s ears—or rather, her entire body—felt as cold as ice. So cold, in fact, that Alice shuddered, her eyes trembling in shock.

Without hesitation, Alice shrugged off her outer coat and draped it over Yuria. Her own high body temperature caused steam to rise where the coat met her warm skin, but she paid it no mind, focusing instead on making sure Yuria was warming up.

“Good. She’s stopped shivering.”

Seeing that her coat was doing its job, Alice exhaled in relief. Kneeling to meet Yuria’s gaze, she spoke softly.

“Are you okay? Are you feeling warmer now?”
“...”
“Why are you wandering around here alone? Are you lost?”

But Yuria averted her eyes, avoiding Alice’s question entirely. Was she reluctant to answer? Or was it something else?

After a moment of quiet contemplation, Alice decided to take a chance and asked cautiously.

“Yuria, do you live near here?”
“...”
“Could you show me where you live?”
“...!”
“Don’t tell me… you don’t have a home, do you?”
“...”

Yuria’s transparent reaction hit Alice like a hammer to the back of the head.

Now that she thought about it, things hadn’t added up for a while.
Why would someone Yuria’s age need to work? If she had a family—or even just a guardian—there would be no reason for her to take a job.

Could it be she was just trying to make some pocket money? That’s what Alice had assumed, but the reality was far more heart-wrenching. She hadn’t been earning pocket money—she’d been trying to survive.

Alice was at a loss for words.

Her heart ached as she stared at Yuria, who seemed smaller than ever under her borrowed coat.

With a steely determination, Alice locked eyes with Yuria and declared, “Yuria, you’re coming to my house tonight. No arguments. That’s final.”
“...!”

Alice’s resolve was as unshakable as the snowfall around them.

For Yuria, who was reluctantly making her way toward Greg’s shop after failing to find a new base, Alice’s declaration was nothing short of overwhelming.