On the rundown street, the high heels clicked on the concrete, making their usual sound. The woman walked with pauses, seemingly searching for something. Her glamorous appearance on a street unfitting for her status inevitably drew attention. With a small bag slung on her arm, her understated decorations led to frivolous whistles from men as she passed by in her perfectly tailored clothes.
This place isn't dangerous, but because there aren't beautiful women here, it becomes dangerous.
This street is ordinary because the people here are ordinary, but if something beautiful appears, it turns the ordinary into danger. The woman realized this and quickened her pace toward a certain direction; it should be around here.
