Flickering light reflected on Rico's pupil. He was like a moth who's addicted to clubbing—infatuated with the way she dances on the center stage. Her scent entered his nose, warm and uninvited, yet Rico never complained—smelling like burned kerosene.
Man, I'm bored. Rico slumped on a wooden table as he tried to burn his time by watching a lamp in the middle of the table.
Charlotte insisted that she would make dinner tonight. It's great that she's in a better mood now. She had been ignoring me for days. I even tried to make her favorite mung bean soup yesterday. I'm confused, but I don't wanna ask. It might ruin her mood again.
He moaned, hiding inside his arms, trying to comfort himself. Even those years of wisdom and wits learned from the streets couldn't save this guy.
Thud! Clang!
The sound vibrated across the wooden table. "It's done," said the girl, chest out and hands on her waist, brimming with confidence.
A hint of sweet, salty, appetizing fragrance caught Rico's attention, but the burnt kerosene smell still overwhelmed it. Nonetheless, the food was bussin'. Charlotte served fried fish, one for each of them, and served another glossy, saucy, stir-fried vegetables.
"Let's eat!"
They talked about what happened during their day. Rico went first.
"There was a robbery earlier..."
.
Charlotte's body took a screenshot!
.
Her ears rang. A numbing sensation wrapped around her body, her heart skipped a beat, and she even forgot to breathe for a moment.
But she noticed the tone of Rico's voice. She was still able to assess that he didn't know. She recovered her posture before Rico noticed.
"Guess the victim? Prosfraudity, vice mayor! Haha, out of all people."
Charlotte wanted to laugh with her brother, but she can only give an akward smile.
"Is there something wrong, Lotte?" That was Charlotte's nickname, something only people in the slums had. They gave nicknames to their family and close friends. They believed that granting a name to someone was equivalent to establishing a special connection.
Rico noticed her acting weird since earlier, but he was hesitant to ask. Yet he refused to ignore her since she was clearly not fine. He was her brother, after all.
"CARAAAAMEEELLLL!"
The source of the loud voice was at the front of their house. It startled Rico, and so did Charlotte. Who were in deep thoughts.
That was drunkard Fred's voice. Caramel was his hazel-colored dog he adopted, allegedly stolen from its abusive owner.
"Shut your *ss up, drunkard!" That was the old lady from the other room.
"No! You shut the f*ck up! My baby did not go home today!"
No one in the neighborhood could escape these noises. Their walls were just made of thin plywood or corrugated steel sheets, or a patched-up version of both.
"Go sleep, old man! Caramel can handle herself." The voice came from a young man just across the siblings' house. Not just people in this neighborhood shared walls; their houses were barely a meter apart.
The young man had a point. Despite her sweet name, Caramel was a massive dog. She was the largest in the block. "But—" The old man's voice grew weaker, and a loud snore replaced it.
Did he just sleep on our doorstep?
Rico and Charlotte finished eating. They ate while the commotion was happening. They're too used to it—to be bothered. Rico did the dishes afterward.
"Hey, Lotte, about earlier—" Ah, she had fallen asleep too. This was why Momma Liz teased her that Fred was her real father. He smiled, remembering those days, then put a blanket over Charlotte.
He sat in front of the former dining table, which was a study table now, and read an Oriental book from the Southern continent. It's about mythical creatures of folklores.
That same night, before he fell asleep, Rico heard barks and howls from the dogs. But it quieted down immediately as his eyes shut for good.
_____
Rico woke up after sleeping a generous 4 hours. He was in the kitchen. By saying kitchen, it's the corner of their house, with stacked pots and a portable stove, loaded by a butane gas canister.
Rico squatted—closely watching bubbles form at the top of boiling water. 'This is Peak, Unpaid, 100% free intertainment.'
Suddenly, ripples formed in the pot, bursting his bubble. Followed by an aggressive shaking from the ground.
"EARTHQUAKE! EARTHQUAKE!" Someone from the block shouted. It woke up almost everyone in the neighborhood. Including Charlotte.
The water spilled in big waves.
"Rico, where are you?" Their home was dimly lit by the light coming from a small window. "I'm okay." Charlotte saw his silhouette. Rico was pointing at the table, Charlotte understood what he meant. She rolled under it.
The quake increased gradually, dropping the kerosene lamp—perched on the table. "I'm fine." Even though the glasses shattered across the floor. It landed away from Charlotte. But most importantly, it was dried out because of Rico's reading the night before.
It finally calmed down. And that made the neighborhood go into chaos. Everyone was talking to everyone, some even managed to get into an argument.
Rico boiled water again, Charlotte swept the floor...Rico made a coffee and milk...
The neighbors were still going at it.
Rico took a sip from his broken mug. 'This is Peak, Unpaid, 100% free intertainment.'
After preparation, Rico left a 50 P's bill on the table. He told Charlotte to buy 2 kilos of rice. They could afford old stock rice, costing 22 P's each. If the weather was clear, you could get rice that tasted bland. On cloudy days, they smelled like medicine.
To be fair, eating twice was considered a decent life in this area. Which Rico barely provided. He was one of the few—that had a job in the City. Some of them were not even allowed to step out there.
The remaining 6 P's were for Charlotte's snacks. She attended the 'hood made-up school, where they taught the young ones to read and count in Prosperan, the national language of Euporia.
"Old man, you sober yet?"
Folks from the slums spoke "broken" Prosperan. Only a few learned to speak it properly, Rico was one of them. Despite that, he took pride in speaking in their own way.
"Ya, but Caramel..." He looked worried. "I'll try to look for her today." Old Fred stood up and pressed his palm to his face. He looked like he was in pain as he walked away, wobbling.
..
Rico walked along the alleys of houses. He tried to move carefully, as this place reeked of smudge, muck, and other substances that would flip the stomach of a civilized Euporite. It wasn't easy, some alleys were only accessible if you walked sideways.
Rico gave nods to the folks he encountered, and so did they. To be honest, Rico couldn't recognize them because of his poor eyesight. But heads up don't discriminate.
Finally, he reached the wider concrete alley. It didn't reek as much—still, the air had a musty odor as always. As he walked in this wide alley, he noticed cracks in the wall.
He spotted a group of teens and a lone middle-aged man. They're holding a pint of paint and spray paints. "You guys are early, you lot have lessons today—ain't ya?"
"Nah, can't miss this chance."
A guy holding a ladder spoke, his nose and mouth covered with a bandana. 'So that's how they reach that place.'
The man of the group climbed the ladder and painted stitches on the cracks. His strokes were free—no, they were wild. The teens followed his lead and painted the smaller cracks. Rico didn't stay there for long. But he asked them something before going. "Y'all watch out for Caramel."
"That drunkard's dog?"
"Yeah, she hasn't come home yet."
"Aight, bro." The kid drew a doodle face of a dog—used a vibrant orange paint. It had a smirk and X for its eyes.
***
Rico finished distributing newspapers. He was paid 1 Pea for every delivery, and he got a free newspaper for himself. He read the headline:
MAYOR. SEBASTIAN MURDER CASE CLOSED; VICE MAYOR. VIVIENNE TAKEN INTO CUSTODY.
That snatching incident...I think I know the guy.
Oh, speak of the devil.
A guy sat to his right, probably in his late twenties. He wore a fitted shirt and a baseball cap with the emblem "Euporia Pulis." He stared blankly in the distance.
"So that was you. Who's the unlucky kid this time?"
"You don't have to know. Help me find these people." Dominic passed photos to Rico, and a coin with a letter P and number 50 engraved on it.
Hmm... aren't these vice mayor's bodyguards?
"They went missing yesterday, but we are not allowed to search until 24 hours passed."
Who asked? I didn't ask. Most importantly, I don't wanna ask. I don't want to be involved with your people's business.
Rico took a glance at his emblem. It reminded him of the beating he got before—after refusing to pay the patrol men of "turf fee." It had only happened once for some reason. Still, Rico never forgot people who did him dirty.
Well, at least this guy is different...
Rico glanced at his eyes.
Incomprehensible as ever, he's a horror on his own.
"I can't help you, I was already looking for a dog. I can't look for another two." Rico handed over the photos. He managed to draw dog ears on them during the conversation, then walked away.
He didn't give back the 50 Peas.
***
Rico walked around the streets of Divinity. He talked to groups of other slum children he came across. During their small talks, he would intentionally mention Caramel. Not everyone was interested, of course, but a fair number of them answered him—yet he still did not get any clue.
Rico also got paid from odd jobs along the way. Stall vendors trusted him to deliver merchandise, help lift crates, or run errands for them.
Even though slum citizens are generally considered filthy, Rico was mindful of his appearance and drip.
Like a flowering weed in the garden. He wore a plain, muted-olive hoodie, paired with black baggy pants. Everything was thrifted. He also regularly paid to bathe at gasoline stations.
He did not need to shave, either. He might be twenty years old—according to his mom, though there is no birth certificate to prove it. He surely did not look like one. These might sound expensive, but totally necessary.
______
Prosper City, Main street
Monday, 10 AM
Weather forecast: 0% chance of raining
[Transferring: 80%]
Rico was paid 20 Peas to deliver a bag of apples to the wife of a fruit stall vendor. She apparently worked at a salon on the main street.
Never been here before. But surely these people glare sharper than Divinity Street citizens.
Rico saw his reflection in the mirrored wall of a store. He stared at himself, scratching his chin.
Hmmmm… maybe it's my hair that bothers them. Unbeknownst to him, it was a one-way mirror.
Crack!
In an instant—The guy in front of him dissipated into thin air.
The glass wall shattered—revealed the people inside the store staring at him…
Crash!
That was his embarrassment.
Crash! Crash! Crash!
Those were the shattered glasses from neighboring stores. The sirens from the vehicles alarmed simultaneously.
They had siren posts with speakers that warned the citizens.
Attention: A magnitude 6.1 earthquake has been recorded approximately 20 kilometers from your area. Moderate-strong tremors may be experienced. Residents of Prosper City are advised to remain calm and stay alert. Please prioritize your safety.
The earthquake was weaker than they experienced earlier. Rico dropped on one knee, trying his best not to plank on the ground. The people in the store ducked and covered their heads, and slowly moved away from the shelves.
The shaking stopped.
Rico looked around. Thankfully, the only casualties were the broken windows.
The people in the store were staring at him again.
"Yo! Stay safe guys." He walked away, without looking back.
.
.
.
He successfully delivered the bag of apples.
On his way back to Divinity Street, he realized how wrong his last comment about the earthquake was.
The situation here was totally different. The sirens were louder, blinks of red and blue everywhere.
"We need more people here!" a fireman shouted on his phone. More sirens could be heard from afar.
He saw a flipped car on the sidewalk.
Can an earthquake cause that?
He crossed the road and walked on the opposite side. There was another car—parked inside an establishment.
Crack!
An establishment suddenly collapsed from afar. It was a fair distance, but the horrifying screams cut through—sending chills down his spine. Rico had a share of experience on hearing people in agony. This was the first time he felt this way.
Every time he thought of that scream, his flesh quivered. He felt the urge to go home early today.
Rico kept his distance from the scene and turned onto Divinity Street. To his ignorance, That was the best decision he ever did in his life.
***
He collected the old newspapers from the vendors earlier than usual, which also meant he had confirmed the situation on the other streets. They added 5 more to his list of "people in need". But he had more things to consider.
I need to ask around the slums. The stall vendors might confirm the situation of the official citizens there, but that's not all. For my safety, I have to know who owns these turfs...tsk
Good thing I'm not a member of any gang, it would be much harder...
He made his way into the shady alley.
Newer grafitti, it says "EuPOORia" and "Hands-off! Prosfraudity!"
I can't blame them, I drew my share in the past.
It's natural for the people in the slums to hate these concrete walls and everything behind them. They're storages and factories for substances we don't even know. The city won't admit it, but we know who burned our houses and forced us off our land. This is why we were shoved to the outskirts. And they don't just stop there—they dump their filth on us too...
Rico arrived in the crossroad of alleys, earlier than usual, earlier than he should be.
[ Transferring: 90% ]
He saw a familiar fur. They were thick and hazel-brown. She was massive.
"Caramel!"
She turned and looked at him, something he wished hadn't happened.
The massive dog ran towards him but it wasn't a run from an excited dog that saw their friend. It wasn't even a massive dog. It's gigantic. But Rico's bad eyesight fooled him. It was after he called her name he realized—this dog is more than one meter tall.
Her fangs were dripping, clear drool and a green luminescent substance.
What are you?!
She jumped—
closed the distance in one pounce. Rico, with all his strength, waved the bundled newspaper he was holding in front of him.
Thud!
It hit Caramel's snout, but her razor-sharp claws retaliated and scratched Rico's arm.
A bright-red dye crawled on his muted-olive hoodie almost instantly. It started fine, followed by a burning sensation, then a pain he never experienced before. He almost lost consciousness, his pupils were twitching from pain.
Luckily he hit her snout—hard enough to stun her for a few seconds.
Rico didn't hesitate and threw everything he was holding and ran past her, Exiting that side was faster than going back to Divinity city.
his right hand we're dangling. He ran staggering like a drunk man.
He tripped into something, someone—
Old Fred.. his body was soaked in green luminescent substance.
She killed old Fred...
It hurts.. f*ck! I don't wanna die...
His right hand was numbing, his blurry eyes worsened.
The beast's bark echoed in the alley. It was loud enough to burst Rico's eardrum. and It did—it froze him in place. His ears rang, a stinging pain followed through. and blood flowed out.
He turned around, holding his other ear with her left hand, as if he could reduce the bleeding. Meanwhile, he already lost his authority on his right hand...
I can't die here... No confidence behind those thoughts.
This might be a wider alley, but it did not mean anything. The beast pounced at him precisely, He did dodged, but she predicted his direction. Not only was its size enhanced, it was smarter too.
Her paws hit Rico's chest.
Thud!
Pinned him to the ground...He coughed as his back slams the concrete. His rib was broken from the sheer weight of the beast...
fckn dog! dogsht! sonovav*tch...
It's painful... I can't breathe...
aa.. He wetted himself
Her fangs were ready to crush his head. Even then, Rico refused to close his eyes.
Bang!
Bang!Bang!Bang!Bang!...a full magazine was shot.
It was Dominic. He happened to passed by after he paid a visit to the siblings' house earlier.
He took out another handgun.
Bang!Bang!Bang!Bang!Bang!...
Those shots were precise and unforgiving. He emptied 2 magazines.
Caramel reverted back to her normal size. Her body lay beside Rico.
Thus, Their eyes met, but only one of them was alive.
How dare you to... look that... sad..
You killed.. Old Fred... You...
Wait... Since when can I understand... animals' eyes...
Am I...going crazy? No, I'm dying...
godd*amnit! It's cold...It's warm...
It's cold..weird, it must be my pee..
it's comforting...I wanna sleep...
"don't close your eyes." Dominic said not with concern but more of a command.
"What do you mean you can't send ambulance to a slum kid?" He was on phone.
"Rico...Rico.." They were voices of slum punks that rushed into the alley—when they heard the gunshot. One of them supports Rico's head.
"Rico..."
Their voices were fading...But that last one..who was that?..I want to rest...
[ Transferring: 99% ]