A simple wooden bed, a wardrobe, a small dressing table.
The windows were tightly closed, and a faint smell of cheap soap mixed with dust filled the room.
"She was found in her own bed at night," Ossen stood at the doorway without stepping inside. "The maid who shared the room said she was fine before going to sleep, but couldn't be woken up in the morning. She looked... just like Bob."
Duke entered the room and closed his eyes as well, releasing his spiritual power once more.
This time, the environment was even cleaner.
The wooden furniture emitted weak and dormant energy fluctuations; the air carried the lingering breath of a young girl's life. It held the cleansing scent of soap and a faint, almost imperceptible, vitality of youth, which was also rapidly dissipating.
