I locked the front gate, staring at all the people walking in front of my store. It is six o'clock in the afternoon, a time when the sun begins to set, and the shadows grow longer. With the night hastily approaching, the streets become busier—not just with the night crowd, but also with those who thrive under the cover of darkness.

I'm the owner of a quaint thrift store, modest in size, yet filled with hidden gems and potential treasures people may want to buy. However, the modern-day 'gold diggers' who frequent my store aren't lured by the potential future value of an antique vase or the historical intrigue of a vintage cassette player. Instead, these new-age treasure hunters are drawn to the most unique items, those rare finds that stir their desires. They seem willing to go to great lengths, perhaps even to the extent of compromising their own values, in their relentless pursuit of these desirable pieces.

As I step back into the shelter of my store, snugly tightening my scarf, bracing against the cold breeze that hints at the menacing storm quickly approaching the neighborhood. Despite the looming inclement weather, my resolve for a comforting cup of tea remains unwavering. I flick off the lights, plunging the store into darkness, and head upstairs into my humble abode. The occasional flashes of lightning from the brewing storm offer fleeting illumination, casting eerie shadows around me. I stopped to stare at my own silhouettes dancing hastily through the walls, being immediately startled by the roaring sound of thunder.

"This is going to be a nasty one."

I picked up the pace and continued my journey toward the kitchen, my mind singularly focused on one comforting thought — the prospect of a warm, soothing cup of tea. I let a soothing tune flow serenely out of my lips, a whistle of my pleasant desires that awaited me.

The old building trembles with each rumble of thunder, the vibrations resonating through every brick in the walls. Despite of the intimidating weather, I carefully prepare my tea, opting for the familiar comfort of Earl Grey. A slight spill over the stove occurs, a trivial mishap that I dismiss with a chuckle – such minor accidents are nothing uncommon for a man of my age.

Settling onto my couch, I find myself in solitude. Whiskers, has embarked on his own nightly adventure, roaming the neighborhood in search of a lady to entertain. I'm not entirely convinced if he will succeed, considering he looks as old as me.

"Looks like that darn cat is out chasing tail again," I said, switching on the TV. "I just hope he doesn't find any."

As the words leave my mouth, another crack of thunder, louder and much closer than I would prefer, rips through the air. It's followed by an abrupt blackout, snatching away the electricity and plunging me into a sudden, deep darkness.

"Darn my luck."

Suddenly, the eerie silence is shattered by the sound of multiple objects breaking within the building. I'm quick to dismiss the notion that it might be my dumb cat–because I knew, he knows better, and I prefer to hold onto that belief. But then, another distinct sound of breaking echoes through the room, unmistakably coming from the store below.

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"Whiskers!"

With caution, I got up from my couch, setting my freshly brewed cup of tea back on the stove. I grabbed my flashlight, noticing the forceful winds beginning to crash on the windows around me.

I make my way downstairs, the building, once again engulfed in the resounding boom of thunder, adding a dramatic undertone to my descent. This is quickly followed by the onset of a heavy downpour, its relentless drumming against the century-old windows creating a symphony of nature's fury.

Inside the store, I swept the beam of my flashlight over each cabinet and table, searching for my mischievous cat. The light revealed some ceramic vases knocked to the floor, now shattered into countless pieces.

"Whiskers?"

A fierce bolt of lightning streaks across the sky, briefly illuminating the entire store, chasing away the shadows. In this momentary flash of light, I continue to trace the path of destruction, watching my treasures being decimated by a cat drunk in blind love.

I grew anxious at the scene unfolding in front of me, engulfing my mind in a sudden burst of anger. "I swear to you, annoying furball. You will get the boot out of my store when I finally find you."

But it seems that I followed a different kind of thief. Whiskers might be unpredictable at times, but he was not the culprit of the devastation inside my store. The vases were randomly selected from the shelves and thrown at a wooden wall.

"There's no way, this cat will be able to find my secret room," I said, looking at the damage on the wall.

Hidden from view, I have a small, secret room – a place where I keep my most valued possessions safe. The vases, which have been on the shelves since I acquired the store, now lay in ruins, used as tools to break the aged wall that concealed my hidden chamber. Among these possessions, there is an instrument of immeasurable value, tucked away, far from the reach of those driven by greed.

I carefully step over the fragments of wood scattered on the floor. Even though the entrance to my secret room has been compromised, I know that my most treasured item will not be easy to find. It's hidden well, requiring more than just breaking down a wall to discover.

"Hello?"

As lightning flashed once more across the room, its brief illumination revealed an unwelcome figure lurking beneath the stairs. I fixed my gaze on the intruder, catching the silhouette of someone hastily retreating from the sudden burst of light.

"There is no point in hiding, I can see you now."

The intruder is not particularly tall, and evidently not wise enough to consider the consequences of breaking into my store. I maintain my composure, observing as the figure slowly moves around her hiding spot beneath the stairs.

"I don't want any problems." The young female voice said.

I let loose a chuckle, finding her comment amusing. "Well, you've certainly got one now."

I move cautiously towards the source of the female voice, seeking to discern her face in a building enveloped in darkness. The girl, sensing my approach, retreated away from the intermittent flashes of light, deliberately concealing herself deeper into the shadows.

"I'm sorry about the vases, I bet they were expensive."

Her attempt to engage in small talk about the vases seemed like a tactic to delay facing the repercussions of her actions. But I wasn't distracted by her diversion, my eyes recording every detail of this mysterious girl.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I was looking for it, but I couldn't find it. It is of extreme importance that I find it."

As I step closer to the intruder, a quick glance at her hands confirms she poses no immediate threat to me or my store. Yet, what truly intrigues me more is her intent. The storm raging outside is severe and dangerous – it's hard to comprehend why she would be so determined to search for something under such dangerous weather conditions.

"The old lady said you have it here, hidden away from human eyes. But I'm not like everyone else. Others seek it for profit, but not me."

"Oh really? If is not for money, then why are you here?"

 "I need to find it... to save my brother's life."