Just as the afternoon sun suddenly dims, large raindrops begin to pelt the asphalt. You instinctively dash into a small secondhand bookshop tucked away in a back alley. As you push the door open with a ring of the bell, the scent of old paper and freshly roasted coffee gently welcomes you.

The owner looks up from behind the counter, a kind smile visible behind his thin-rimmed glasses. He gently closes the book he was holding and rises from his seat.