Ethan pushed forward through the crowd, driven like a man possessed. The city roared around
him—merchants yelling prices, horses clattering over cobblestones, the smell of spices, sweat,
and hot bread wafting in the air.
He kept searching. Eyes darting left, right. Heart hammering in his chest.
[System Notification]
[Target proximity detected. Estimated distance: 10 meters.]
His gaze snapped to a figure standing beside a stall overflowing with baskets of dried herbs.
She was half-turned away from him, a cloak draped over her shoulders, though strands of
crimson hair spilled free. She was speaking to a merchant, gesturing with her hands in rapid,
animated movements, her voice rising in that gruff cadence he knew all too well.
A tremor ran through Ethan's chest.
He broke into a sprint and lunged forward, grabbing her arm.
"Hey—!"
The woman stiffened, her hand still halfway outstretched toward a bunch of dried lavender.
Slowly, she turned, eyes wide.
