Chapter 2
Arthur Frank's Bizarre Mansion
As I stepped out into the street, the familiar scent of the Thames greeted me.
That putrid stench, so vile it could make a man's stomach turn, had become the emblem of London over the years.
It was a festering cesspool of sewage and waste, unfit for any living creature to inhabit. But for me, it was home.
Years had passed since I left for my military and exploratory exploits, but the river's smell remained the same. A mixture of nostalgia and disgust filled my heart, yet I found myself enjoying every second of my walk along the Thames.
“Get out of the way! Get out of the way!”
“Oh lord…”
Suddenly, a loud bang shook me out of my reverie. A carriage with a red flag came hurtling past me, followed by a leisurely car, belching out soot and smoke. The coachman swore and cursed at me, narrowly avoiding running me over.
"These days…," I muttered under my breath, feeling more aged than ever before.