Upon seeing the dark silhouette, I felt a wave of relief, as it was clearly just an illusion generated a thousand years ago. Still, I was struck by the bizarre coincidence—someone on this very street a millennium ago had performed the exact same gesture I just had.

The odds of that were astronomically low. So, I couldn't help but stare at the shadow a little longer.

It was incredibly faint, so pale that I couldn't even make out its features. Yet, as I turned my head to look at it, this mere shadow somehow twisted its neck to look back at me.

Goosebumps instantly flooded every inch of my skin again, because I realized the thing seemed to be mimicking me! If a phantom possessed the ability to imitate, it could no longer be called a phantom; it had to be some unknown monster.

Facing off against that faceless silhouette, a chill crept into my heart, and the atmosphere felt profoundly unsettling. At that moment, I remained still, and the entity stood there without the slightest tremor.

I silently chanted to myself, "It has to be a coincidence, it must be a coincidence." Then I took another step forward, and sure enough, the shadow mirrored my action, stepping forward as well. My hair nearly stood on end.

I pointed a trembling finger at the shadow and stammered, "Wh-what are you?" The shadow simultaneously pointed its own finger back at me, its mouth moving silently, uttering nothing I could decipher. Though my fear had reached its absolute peak, I knew panicking now was the worst possible move.

Thinking carefully, if this thing was simply copying everything I did, then I would give it a test. With that decision, I drew the Silver Fish shortsword from my waist and slowly walked toward the shadow.

The shadow reached to its side, fumbling at its waist, but finding nothing, it slowly advanced toward me as well. I allowed a faint smile to cross my lips, thinking, Got you now, haven't I?

When we were less than a meter apart, I gritted my teeth, deliberately avoiding the blank, featureless face, and swung the Silver Fish shortsword fiercely, thrusting directly at the shadow. Seeing the cold gleam of the Silver Fish blade, the thing finally ceased its mimicry.

Instead, it raised a hand defensively, recoiling in apparent fear. But how sharp was the Silver Fish shortsword?

With a crisp swish, the blade cleaved through its arm, slicing down from the right shoulder, splitting its entire body in two. However, there was no blood, nor any shriek of pain.

The thing merely separated into two halves, which then slowly slumped and melted away, dissolving into two puddles of thick sludge. I stared at the twin pools of muck on the ground, finding the sight utterly unbelievable—what kind of animated mire existed in this world?

Before I could dwell on the sludge, another question abruptly surfaced: the old woman from before. If this sludge wasn't an illusion, then the fact that the old woman could track our movements by following our gazes clearly meant she, too, was not a phantom.

I quickly spun around to look back into the previous shop, but it was utterly deserted. Feeling puzzled, I walked toward the storefront and approached the counter, where I saw a single candle burning atop a small table inside.

The slight movement of my breath could disturb the flame's direction; this candle, too, was clearly real. I glanced behind the counter—no sign of the woman.

Examining the goods on the shelves, they were all pristine, bright silver ornaments, exquisitely crafted, showing none of the tarnish expected of thousand-year-old items. I wondered how the old woman could have vanished so suddenly, as there appeared to be no hidden passages.

So, I vaulted over the counter and entered the depths of the shop. Idly picking up a silver bell, I fiddled with it, confirming that the silver pieces were indeed brand new, their engravings remarkably fine—hardly relics from a millennium past.

Glancing over a few more pieces, I began searching the shelves for any mechanism or secret exit, but after a long search, I found nothing at all. "This is strange..." I murmured, rubbing my chin, finding the situation baffling.

But no matter how much I reasoned, there was no way to locate the vanished old woman. After a few more minutes, I reluctantly returned to the street.

The two puddles of muck on the street had already seeped away through the cracks between the flagstones, leaving only faint stains behind. I scuffed the spots with my boot and detected nothing unusual.

With no other choice, I resignedly continued forward. On both sides, the brazier fires still cast only feeble, dim light.

Ramshackle buildings stood haphazardly along the thoroughfare, and the faint, barely visible dark shadows continued to drift about. This time, however, I saw no particularly suspicious shadows move.

I looked up toward the lighthouse. It seemed close, yet after walking for so long, I felt no nearer; Durban City was truly immense.

Though worried about where Big Bear and the others might have gone, I had no leads for investigation now, so I resolved to keep moving toward the lighthouse. My plan solidified: first, investigate the library, then ascend the lighthouse.

If I could use its spotlight to signal in various directions, perhaps I could attract Big Bear and the others. Having set my course, and while I still had strength, I began to jog in the direction of the lighthouse.

The road began to narrow significantly at a crossroads. I was once again threading my way between decrepit dwellings, occasionally catching glimpses of their former inhabitants moving inside—a truly magical spectacle.

Passing through patches of these houses, I entered a much darker sector, likely an area severely damaged by the tsunami, leaving behind nothing but ruins. The path through the rubble grew increasingly treacherous, forcing me to slow my pace and advance cautiously.

After only a few steps, I distinctly heard a tap-tap of footsteps behind me. Because the ruins were so silent, the sound stood out sharply.

I couldn't help but turn and look back. But when I looked, I saw nothing at all.

I peered around the vicinity with some confusion, deciding I must have experienced auditory pareidolia. I shook my head and continued forward.

But after only a few more steps, the tap-tap sound resumed behind me. So I froze again, turning my head to look back once more.

This time, too, I saw nothing—only the sighing wind, causing the faint mist in the air to drift and swirl with an eerie, ineffable quality. This unsettling atmosphere spurred me to quicken my pace.

Even though I was still picking my way over the rubble and debris, I could no longer afford caution. Tap-tap-tap...

the footsteps sounded again, shadowing me, yet never seeming too close. I decided not to look back again, quickening my speed to almost a run.

Even without turning, I couldn't stop guessing what kind of thing was following me. Suddenly, I recalled a strange set of footsteps trailing us when André and I first came ashore.

Could it be that we had encountered that same entity we had mistaken for the Sea Women before? Recalling the sea elephants whose insides had been completely hollowed out, I knew how dangerous such things could be, and I gripped the Silver Fish tightly in my hand.

The area of ruins wasn't vast, and the rubble helped fill in sinkholes and underground tunnels. So, even though navigation was difficult, the ability to walk in a relatively straight line actually made progress faster.