That night.
At ten o'clock sharp.
Cuckoo Town.
A sparse night with moon and stars.
The town, having just experienced a snowfall, was draped in a thick layer of white snow.
Under the bright moon, two figures were sneaking about, floating midair.
— One of the figures was wobbling as if it could crash at any moment, and even ridiculously burping from time to time, sounding like loud farts.
The pure moonlight scattered down, casting a mottled shadow across the cemetery of Cuckoo Town.
The shadows of the trees swayed, and the lettering on the tombstones seemed to come to life, exuding a mysterious and eerie vibe.
A girl with long purple hair wandered in the graveyard with a flashlight in hand, squatting down from time to time, standing up again, and squatting down—she was digging for Snow Roots.
"Are you sure she's my daughter?... *Hic*"
