Chapter 5: The old friend?

"If I were you, I wouldn't be foolish enough to lay a hand on it."

Ciara didn't know since when a disheveled man stood right behind her. His hair was silver-gray, with a full beard that he hadn't bothered to shave. His clothes were shabby, and his coat was haphazardly draped over him, with the hem dragging on the ground.

Ciara's impression of this person can be summarized in a single word:

Unkempt.

The man seemed to be oblivious to the gazes of others as he looked at himself. He walked and yawned his way towards the desk. When he sat down on the chair, noticing the ink spill on the table, he simply flicked his hand, smudging the papers with ink, and dropped the bottle into the nearby trash bin.

"Sit down." He gestured to Ciara, commanding her to take a seat.

However, when Ciara looked at the desk and chair in the middle of the room, she abandoned the intention to sit down. There was nowhere to place herself as it was cluttered with the clothes of this man right in front of her.

Whethe