Mir briskly scans the surroundings to verify the whiff of danger. There is no trail of additional individuals in the vicinity. His senses are suddenly heightened. Mind is alert and vigilant. A surge of cold anxiety cascaded down the body.

Even if it was an invisible ghostly incorporeal creature, Mir should have been able to see that with his extra special spellbinded magical contact lenses.

It was probably a concomitant hallucinatory upshot of the ominous dark, eerie environment.

" Maybe it was just my imagination." Mir mumbles.

This is an unnerving hollow place denuded of sufficient life forms. It has the capacity to effortlessly dispirit someone.

Mir knows that. He has been in this sort of sitch loads of times. He gets his precarious grip on his state of mind and musters enough willpower to shape forces for the next steps of the plan.

"It's past 7.30 PM. Piran should be out any minute now." Mir ponders and cautiously waits.

Finally, Piran came out of his cottage. He sits on his Blackburne motorcycle and kicks off the engine. The machine roars like a burning devil. Just like last two days, he rides his mechanical black hog heading all the way to the city.

Seeing the opportunity, Mir quickly tiptoes toward the cottage. Standing in front of the main door, he notices a flimsy lock. He implements his years of lock picking experience into application. The lock unseals.

The overgrown branches covered the door as if it is warning him off, but a deal is a deal. So, he pulls away the branches without a sweat and opens the door. It makes a creaking noise like every abandoned house does and then slams shut behind him. 'It's just the wind' Mir tries to convince himself. A foul stench invades his nostrils.

The house has lived for years, longer than the lifetime of the man who now crossed the leaf-strewn threshold. He flashes the lights from his handy tiny battery torch into the gloom, for all the good it did, the room remained stubbornly dark. The windows are caked in grime and for the most part boarded up, leaving only the slimmest of slithers for the rays to struggle through. As he enters the old dining room, the slim light cast from the open moon is lost from view and he blunders into dusty cobwebs. There is a flash of brown fur as several rats dives for cover and the eldest rat screams. After a few moments of laughter to relieve the tension, he becomes buoyant and bold.

With the guidance of the mini torch light, he starts his investigation. After probing the place, he discovers some suspicious items from the exploration.

 There's a paten disc. It is an altar consecration tool with a sigil engraved upon it, a wand set with gemstones, a chalice, censer and incense, a green belt and a besom.

A box full of medicines. Some of them are unknown. There's a bottle containing unknown liquid. It’s only labelled with the letter "A".

There is a white handled knife, with a curved blade, like that of a crescent moon. It is probably used for harvesting and cutting herbs, inscribing candles with symbols or sigils, or cutting ritual cords. Finally, there's a shiny metal shield that can be used to protect against even the most dangerous blows.

Even though all these items look suspicious, Mir couldn’t see any magical aura from them.

Mir thinks "Is this magic on another level that even old geezers magical lenses fail to detect? If that is the case, then I am in grave danger!"

Before he could finish his chain of thoughts, a strong smack on his head from back. Something crashes into the back of his skull.

.