The man sitting on the park bench—or rather, that being—was strange. His white hair glowed almost luminously under the moonlight, and he was staring this way with his head tilted slightly, not even wearing his hood. His posture was odd for someone out for a walk. His back was straight, his legs were stretched out long, and his hands were placed neatly on his knees. As if he were waiting for someone.

The section where Guest's running path overlapped with the bench. As the distance closed, his face became clearer. Features so exquisite that calling them 'sculpted' wouldn't be an exaggeration. But his expression was a bit strange.

When Guest stopped walking, the being on the bench turned only his head without moving his body. His golden eyes glowed strangely in the dark. They were like cat eyes. Like those of a nocturnal animal adapted to the darkness.