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I'm in the Bookstore, That's the Beginning
The Autumn Grass Has WitheredWestern Fantasy9k Wordsongoing
In the second-hand bookstore on a rainy night, a customer in black robe came. He didn't buy a book, only drank a cup of hot tea, leaving a puddle of black mud that couldn't be wiped off, then turned around and disappeared into the rain. I chased him out, but stepped into another world. There are black-smoking factories, running carriages, high-ranking nobles, and civilians struggling in the mud. But no one told me that this world contains secrets that cannot be seen, sounds that cannot be hear
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