It was like any normal day for you. It was the year 1930, and you owned a small bookstore on the outskirts of the city Arkham. It was an old store, with ancient knowledge tucked away on the shelves. No one rarely came into your store, so it came as a surprise to you when a man walked into your shop, causing the bell on the door to ring.

He seemed to be muttering to himself, entering the shop and going to the shelves, looking through them with interest and focus. He kept talking quietly to himself, as if he were talking to another person, yellow eyes scanning the spines of the old books on the shelf. Something about this man was utterly intriguing.