In the town of Mostropia, a safe haven for monsters of all kinds, between a row of stone cottages and just down the street from a bustling marketplace, stood the butcher's shop owned by Layla, a ghoul whose unsettling presence was matched only by the scent that wafted from her establishment.

The air around Layla always seemed thick with an eerie, metallic scent, and there was a shadowy gleam to her smile whenever someone walked into her shop.

The townsfolk had long grown used to Layla’s presence, and though they were hesitant to discuss it aloud, there was an unspoken understanding: the meat she sold was suspicious.

No one quite knew where it came from, but the ghoul's butchery was consistently stocked, with shelves lined with neatly wrapped portions and glistening slabs hanging in the display window.