A noise brought Surgit back to the cobbled street and he saw two other men approaching him in a sprint. The one on the right wore a straw hat and seemed to be a peasant if not for his furry face and long arms. His legs on the other hand were human and he wore simple grey trousers. The man on the left wore a long black coat and had only one elongated arm which held a sword while he held a pistol on the other. The peasant looking man had a sickle and dashed towards Surgit trying to cut him open with it. Surgit dodged to the left and cut the man’s head off with ease. He was still surprised at how agile he had become and how easily he could kill these abominations. “BOOM!!” before he could react, the impact of the pistol shot had sent him flying backwards. The bullet had hit him on his left shoulder and blood started already oozing out of his body. He could feel the pain tingling from his bones but he had no time to think about it. The shooter was reloading his gun and preparing to aim it again at him. Forgetting his pain, Surgit got up quickly and dashed towards the man as the bullet left the muzzle. He felt the bullet graze his ear as he buried his saw deep inside the man’s chest. The splashing blood from the man’s body landed on his shoulder and Surgit watched in amazement how his wound healed instantly as it came into contact with it.

On all the books that he had read about Yharnam, the recurring theme he came across was the miraculous properties of the Old Blood used by Yharnamites. “So even their blood can heal, it really feels like I’m invincible” he thought to himself, astonished. The street was now empty and fallen carts blocked Surgit’s way. He turned back towards the gate and noticed a lever on his left. Simple curiosity pushed him to pull and he watched as a ladder that took to the top of one of the buildings came down next to him. He decided to take the ladder up, at least to get a better view of the city. As he climbed up, a terrifying howl could be heard in the distance, from the great bridge’s direction. Surgit felt Goosebumps crawling up his skin. That was no werewolf howl. It sounded terrible, angry and anguished.

He reached the top of the ladder to find himself on a small square. It looked as if the ladder was a safety exit from the area in case of fires or disasters. Opposite Surgit was a house with barricaded doors. On its right lay a path with stairs taking down. It looked like a pedestrian street that no vehicle could approach. On the left, he could see yet another closed iron gate. “This city seems to have too many closed doors” he thought to himself as he contemplated the most intriguing sight of all in that square. In the middle of the place, there was what seemed to be a pole from which hung a lantern. Only this pole was too short for it to be a street lantern. For some reason, he felt drawn to the lantern and he made to touch it. As his hand came into contact with it, blue flames illuminated the small lamp and he felt himself losing consciousness.