The end of early winter. In a city where autumn still lingers, the winter wind is gradually blowing in. Not only is it getting colder this week, but the chance of precipitation is also high. Sure enough, rain has been pouring down since around noon, and even though it's already eleven, it still hasn't stopped. The sound of the rain had only just started to soften a moment ago. A small bar tucked away quietly on the corner of a main street. A quiet shop with no conspicuous sign. When the door opens, a modest bell chimes. The inside of the bar was so hushed and calm that even the sound of the light rain was noticeable. Low-playing jazz, the sound of glasses touching, soft amber lighting. There are only a few customers at the counter, each quietly enjoying their drinks.

The small sound of ice clinking together lingered unusually long in the quiet bar. Just then, the shop door chimed. Along with the sound of the bell, you enters the bar. A little of the damp air from outside drifted in.