The morning of May 22 arrived like the beginning of a storm.
Arthur slowly opened his eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling for several seconds before memory returned to him piece by piece.
Susan.
The date.
The strange man from the café.
The moment he remembered him completely, the remaining traces of sleep disappeared from Arthur's face.
Silently, he rose from bed and walked toward the bathroom.
Cold water splashed across his face as he lifted his head toward the mirror.
For a brief moment, he paused.
Something about his reflection felt… strange.
Not unfamiliar.
Just different.
His dark circles had deepened noticeably, making his face appear sharper and far more intimidating than before. His pale skin contrasted against tired eyes that always seemed half-awake, giving him an almost unnatural calmness. Combined with his defined jawline, smooth black hair, and perfectly structured nose, the result should have been attractive.
Instead, it felt unsettling.
Like beauty stripped of warmth.
Arthur stared at himself for another second before looking away.
He did not think much of it.
After showering, he entered the dressing room and began changing clothes.
Once again, he chose the same dark red shirt he had worn yesterday along with black formal pants. This time, however, he exchanged his shoes for a pair of brown leather Chelsea boots.
He dressed carefully.
Methodically.
Without wasting a single motion.
Then he walked toward another room inside the house and picked up a large black bag resting near the wall.
The house was silent.
Arthur lived alone.
Normally, he would have already left for university by now.
But today was different.
By this point, Susan's parents had probably contacted the police.
The thought crossed his mind briefly.
It changed nothing.
Arthur moved toward the storage room at the back of the house.
The room itself was small and crowded with old machinery, rusted tools, spare metal parts, and dust-covered equipment stacked carelessly against the walls.
Arthur stepped inside and calmly began searching through the clutter.
After a few moments, he selected three objects.
An axe.
A hammer.
An iron chain.
One by one, he placed them carefully inside the bag before zipping it shut.
Then he walked back outside the house.
The morning air was cold.
Arthur locked the front door behind him, descended the porch steps, and approached his car parked quietly near the roadside.
A black Volkswagen Beetle.
He opened the door, tossed the bag onto the passenger seat, and started the engine.
Then he began driving.
As Arthur drove through the quiet roads of the town, his eyes briefly drifted toward the sky.
The morning clouds moved slowly above him, pale sunlight filtering through them in thin streaks.
For the first time since waking up, a faint smile appeared on his face.
Then his attention returned to the road.
A few minutes later, he finally arrived at the same café from yesterday—the place where he and Susan had met the strange man.
Arthur parked near the entrance and turned off the engine.
The black bag remained on the passenger seat.
He left it there.
Stepping out of the Volkswagen Beetle, Arthur calmly walked toward the café entrance before pushing open the glass door.
A warm wave of noise and conversation greeted him immediately.
The café was far busier than it had been the previous evening. Customers filled most of the tables while soft music played somewhere in the background.
Arthur's eyes slowly scanned the room before settling on the reception counter.
The receptionist was different today.
A young woman stood behind the counter organizing receipts and cups absentmindedly.
The moment Arthur approached, she looked up.
And paused.
For a second, her mind went completely blank.
How can someone be this handsome?
The thought appeared instantly and embarrassingly fast.
Arthur stopped in front of the counter and smiled politely.
"Good morning."
The girl quickly recovered herself.
"G-Good morning, sir."
Her voice carried slight nervousness now.
Arthur leaned casually against the counter.
"I haven't seen you here before," she said, trying to sound composed. "Are you new in town?"
Arthur nodded slightly.
"Yes. I moved here not too long ago."
"Oh…" She smiled awkwardly. "That explains it. In a town this small, someone that handsome would definitely stand out."
Arthur let out a soft laugh.
"Well, you're beautiful yourself, miss."
The compliment struck instantly.
A faint blush spread across the receptionist's cheeks.
"I think we should have coffee together sometime," Arthur added naturally.
The girl's heartbeat quickened.
For a moment, she looked genuinely ready to agree.
But before she could answer, Arthur continued smoothly,
"Actually, though, I'm looking for someone."
The disappointment barely flickered across her face before curiosity replaced it.
"You see," Arthur said calmly, "I don't really know anybody in this town yet. But now it seems I've already made a friend."
The girl smiled shyly at that.
"There's this man who comes here sometimes," Arthur continued. "I'm not sure how often. Pale face. Around twenty-five years old. Looks a little sick—"
Before he could finish, the receptionist interrupted immediately.
"Oh, you mean Liam Austin?"
Arthur's expression did not change.
But his eyes sharpened slightly.
The girl nodded casually.
"Yeah, he comes here pretty often. Honestly, he's kind of a weirdo." She shrugged apologetically. "But I'm sorry, I don't know where he lives."
Arthur stared at her silently for a second before smiling again.
Then, gently, he took her hand in his own and gave it a slight squeeze.
"Don't worry," he said softly. "You've already helped me a lot."
The girl's face turned red almost immediately.
"Thank you," Arthur added before stepping away from the counter. "Maybe I'll see you again later."
The receptionist could only nod.
Arthur turned and walked back toward the exit while several people inside the café unconsciously glanced at him as he passed.
The girl behind the counter lifted her hand shyly and waved.
Arthur looked back briefly and returned the gesture with the same calm smile.
Then he stepped outside, entered his car once again, and drove away.
Arthur drove through the quiet streets without hesitation.
His destination this time was the post office.
The same place where he and Susan had met the previous day.
When he arrived, he parked nearby and shut off the engine. Once again, the black bag remained inside the car.
Arthur stepped out of the Volkswagen Beetle and walked calmly toward the entrance.
The moment he entered the building, noise and movement surrounded him from every direction.
People crossed the room constantly, some hurrying toward counters while others carried packages or stacks of letters beneath their arms. Postmen moved in and out of the building preparing deliveries, and the sound of footsteps, paper, and conversation blended together into organized chaos.
Arthur ignored all of it.
His eyes quickly settled on a young employee standing behind the reception desk. The boy appeared slightly older than Arthur himself.
Arthur approached him politely.
"Good morning."
The employee nodded in return.
"Good morning, sir. How can I help you?"
Arthur rested one hand casually against the counter.
"Excuse me," he said smoothly, "do you happen to know the Austin family?"
The young man hesitated slightly.
"Yes, sir… but why?"
Arthur smiled faintly.
"Well, I'm actually a relative of theirs. I came from pretty far away to visit them, but I've had trouble finding where they live."
His tone remained relaxed and natural.
"I asked a few people already, but nobody could really help me. Then I thought…" He glanced around the post office briefly. "This is probably the one place where someone might at least know the direction."
The employee studied Arthur carefully.
Like almost everyone else, he noticed the strange charm Arthur carried almost immediately.
Still, the boy shook his head apologetically.
"Sorry, sir, but it's against policy for us to give out someone's address. It would be a violation of privacy."
Arthur nodded instantly.
"Of course. Honestly, I completely agree with you."
His response came so naturally that the employee visibly relaxed.
"You're just doing your job," Arthur continued calmly. "I can't blame you for that."
Then Arthur leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice just enough to sound sincere rather than manipulative.
"And you seem like an intelligent guy. This town is small, after all."
The employee listened quietly.
"I'm not even asking for the exact address," Arthur added with a small smile. "Just directions. That's all."
He paused.
"And if you help me… well, I'll owe you one."
The young employee thought for several seconds.
Then finally, he sighed.
"Fine."
Arthur remained silent.
"You know the mountain near the beaches?" the employee asked.
Arthur nodded slightly.
"They own it."
For the first time during the conversation, something shifted faintly in Arthur's expression.
Not surprise.
Something smaller.
Recognition.
The employee continued,
"There's only one road that goes through the mountain. Their house is there. You'll find it easily."
Arthur smiled warmly.
"Thanks, buddy," he said. "I appreciate it."
Then he stepped away from the counter and headed back outside.
Moments later, he was driving again.
He finally had the location.
As the road stretched ahead of him, Arthur's eyes repeatedly drifted toward the black bag resting on the passenger seat beside him.
From time to time, he also checked the clock.
Twenty minutes later, the town gradually disappeared behind him.
Soon, the coastline and mountain roads came into view.
Arthur turned onto the narrow road leading upward through the mountain exactly as the employee had described.
Five minutes passed.
Then he saw it.
A large wooden house standing alone near the forest.
Two stories tall.
Silent beneath the pale daylight.
Arthur immediately understood.
This was the place.
He slowed the car and parked the Volkswagen Beetle roughly fifty paces away from the house.
For a moment, he remained seated quietly.
Then he opened the door.
This time, he took the black bag with him.
Arthur began walking toward the house slowly.
Calmly.
Yet with every step, a strange excitement grew inside him.
His heartbeat remained steady, but something in his mind felt increasingly alive.
He wanted to reach the front door as quickly as possible.
Still, he deliberately kept his pace controlled.
Measured.
The mountain air felt cold around him as he finally arrived at the entrance.
Arthur lowered the bag onto the ground.
From somewhere inside the house, he could hear the faint voice of a woman speaking.
He raised his hand toward the door.
But before he could knock—
A gunshot echoed from the forest behind the house.
Arthur immediately froze.
The sound cut through the mountain silence sharply.
Then came a second gunshot.
This time, curiosity overtook him almost instantly.
Slowly, Arthur lowered his hand.
He picked up the black bag again, turned away from the house, and walked back toward his car.
After placing the bag inside, he shut the door quietly.
Then, without hesitation, Arthur began walking toward the forest.
Toward the direction from which the gunshots had come.
Chapter ends
To be continued