At four o'clock in the morning, the road was almost empty. An old-fashioned jeep barreled through the sleepy towns, engine growling like a beast that didn't care if it woke the world.
Yoren sat in the passenger seat, watching the blur of darkened houses and shuttered storefronts flash by. He turned to ACE, brow raised.
"Brother ACE, didn't you say you were going to contact a private car last night? Why are you the one driving now?"
ACE snorted. "And where was I supposed to find a private driver at that hour?"
"Then... is this your car?"
"Nope. I stole it."
Yoren gave a low whistle and shot him a thumbs up. "High-class move."
ACE grinned. "And for the record, the car I stole was parked in the garage of the hotel we stayed at."
Yoren burst into laughter, an evil little smirk forming. "Hehe... Brother ACE, you're the best."
With ACE behind the wheel, Yoren had nothing to worry about. According to the map, they'd reach Hapi City well before sunset.
The jeep roared out of the Sanna town limits and onto the open road. Unfamiliar landscapes stretched endlessly on either side. Ursus, Columbia... Now Victoria. This was the third country Yoren had traveled to since arriving in Terra. Wei, Anna's homeland, was the first.
Back then, survival was all he could think about. On Ursus streets, if he couldn't find shelter, he'd freeze. In the natural disaster zones of Mandel City, without treatment, the ore disease would've taken him. But now... things were different. The struggle wasn't so immediate. He wasn't alone anymore.
Mercenaries, police, infected organizations—none of it mattered much. As long as he didn't do something stupid, death wasn't breathing down his neck. That didn't mean life got easier. It just meant the game had changed.
Desire, Yoren realized, was infinite. When you clear one level, the next is already waiting. He'd crossed into Victoria, but the real decision came next. What he chose now could shape the future—not just his, but maybe the history of Terra itself.
ACE had promised to escort them safely to Victoria. Once they found Aina or Hemer's second uncle, his duty would be done. Knowing ACE's character, he wouldn't join any gang. It wasn't in him. He had his own beliefs, his own path.
And Yoren? He had no right to hold him back.
But that didn't change the fact: he didn't want ACE to leave.
He needed a reason. Not one for ACE, but for himself.
Sure, hiding under Aina's wing seemed like the smartest option. Safe, stable. But was it right?
He stared at the scenery rolling past and asked casually, "Hey, Brother ACE, you ever heard of Rhode Island?"
ACE didn't flinch. "Nope. What's that?"
"Nothing. Just curious."
Victoria's highways were full of forks and detours. Many roads had long been abandoned, casualties of natural disasters and the movement of mobile city-states.
Yoren still didn't fully understand how those cities moved. He'd never seen one. But as the name implied, they crawled across the map like enormous metal crabs, shifting to avoid catastrophe. Cities that couldn't move were left behind. People either moved on foot... or waited to die.
Every shift altered geography. Maps had to be redrawn, roads rebuilt. The tech behind mobile cities—powered by Originium—was beyond anything Yoren could've imagined back in his old world. Sci-fi stuff, now real.
Governments hoarded Origin Stones, both for development and disaster prevention. Every country was in short supply. Add private demand—factories, transport, Originium arts—and it wasn't hard to see why the stone became the most precious resource in the world.
And the most dangerous.
Yoren checked the map again. It was the latest edition. No mistakes. The sun climbed overhead, golden light pouring through the dusty windshield.
By 3 p.m., they finally reached the city limits of Hapi.
Yoren pulled out a scrap of paper and dialed.
"Hello? Second Uncle? We're here. Where's your place?"
The voice on the other end came fast. "Block A, Kilt District, Number 44."
Yoren jotted it down, then frowned. "Uh, how am I supposed to find that?"
"Ask someone, you rascal."
"Okay, okay."
The tone was familiar—less like talking to a distant relative, more like family.
ACE drove them deeper into the city. There were no checkpoints, no roadblocks. He explained that in medium-sized cities like this, unless something serious happened, public security tended to be relaxed.
Yoren nodded, absorbing it all. Thanks to mobile cities, transportation was unreliable. Cities were like mini-states now. Everyone just tried to keep things running. As long as you looked clean on paper, no one bothered you.
He had worried about the jeep. That maybe the hotel owner reported it stolen. But clearly, no one cared. Thousands of kilometers away? Out of sight, out of mind.
They circled the city until finally, after asking for directions, they located the Kilt District.
The roads grew rougher as they moved south. Potholes. Cracks. The skyline aged with every block. This was the old part of town.
Yoren leaned out the window, scanning house numbers.
35... 36... 37...
And there it was: Block A, No. 44, Kilt.
The house looked better than expected. Old but sturdy. The land here was generous—every house had a large courtyard. Most of the buildings followed the same layout: a storefront on the ground floor, then a long courtyard leading to a bigger main house in the back.
The jeep screeched to a halt by the curb.
Yoren spotted a figure waiting at the gate. No need to ask—he knew it was Hemer's second uncle.
He looked to be in his late fifties or early sixties, around 1.7 meters tall. His feathers were thinning, and he had the sharp aquiline nose of his tribe. But those piercing eyes and proud posture gave off strength and sharpness. Not just some feeble old man.
He'd been waiting a long time.
Yoren didn't hesitate. He jumped out of the jeep and ran forward with a grin.
Home—or something close—was just ahead.
Seeing Hemer and her second uncle, Yoren suddenly felt a lump rise in his throat.
There was no need to speak at length about Hemer's character. No matter how Rhine Life had treated him, in a way, Hemer had been half a savior to him. She was earnest, loyal, deeply grateful, and willing to throw herself into the fire for those she held dear. That was who she was.
Looking at her second uncle now, Yoren understood. Hemer's journey wasn't built on any influential background. She came from an ordinary family—humble, perhaps—but clearly one with the same unshakable integrity that defined her. It ran in their blood.
As Yoren stepped out of the vehicle, the second uncle immediately waved him over.
"Come here!"
Though it was their first meeting, Yoren could already see a trace of Hemer in the old man's sharp brows. He seemed like someone with a tough, unyielding character, but the way he looked at their jeep now—his eyes full of expectation—softened that impression.
Yoren stepped forward and took his hand. "Second uncle, it's me."
"Where's the child?"
"Hm?"
"The one Hemer told me about? The kid?"
"Ah—right, the kid."
Yoren realized the old man must've misunderstood something. He was probably referring to Ifrit.
Yoren turned back toward the vehicle. "Ifrit, come out, quick."
Clearly, Ifrit wasn't used to this kind of encounter. She got out reluctantly, walking to Yoren's side with a guarded look. But maybe because Yoren had mentioned it before—how important this old man was to them—she mustered some effort, pouted, and greeted him.
"Hello, second uncle."
Yoren gave her a playful tap on the head. "What kind of greeting is that? Call him second uncle and grandpa."
Ifrit clutched her head, aggrieved, and corrected herself. "Hello, second uncle."
Yoren turned back toward Hurd and saw the old man's face twist up like he'd just bitten into a raw lemon. His sparse eyebrows bunched up.
"This kid…"
Just then, a woman in an apron rushed out of the house.
"The children are here?"
From her race's distinctive features, Yoren could guess right away. He bowed slightly. "We're here. Hello, aunt."
"Oh, hello, hello. Thank you for coming. No need to be formal—you're family."
Hurd pulled his wife closer, whispering as they both stared at Ifrit.
"Old lady, is this Hemer's child?"
His wife's expression grew complicated at the sight of Ifrit.
"This girl… doesn't look like a Liboli, does she?"
It was obvious now—they had completely misunderstood. There was no way to explain everything quickly.
Yoren sighed, helpless. "Second uncle, I've got two more friends in the car. Why don't we go inside and talk things through properly?"
"Right, right. Let's head in. The food's nearly done. Come on, let's chat inside."
At the dinner table, Yoren carefully explained everything in a way the two elders could understand. Naturally, he couldn't bring up that Ifrit had once been an experimental subject. Even if he did, they likely wouldn't comprehend it.
Instead, he simply said that Ifrit was an orphan with a deep, almost familial bond with Hemer. Due to certain circumstances, she couldn't stay with Hemer anymore and had come with them instead. He also briefly explained his own situation and Snowsant's. There was nothing left to hide—they had no other place to go.
To his surprise, Hurd didn't mind at all. He raised his wine glass with bold cheer.
"Don't worry about it. I've always treated Hemer like my own daughter. My wife and I never had kids—her friends are our family too. Since you're here, you're home. I, Lao He, welcome you. Cheers!"
Yoren and the others quickly lifted their glasses.
"Second uncle, you're incredibly kind."
"It runs in the family," Hurd laughed.
After the toast, Yoren suddenly remembered something important. He loosened his scarf.
"Uncle, I should tell you this now. We're all infected… see?"
He spoke with some guilt. The status of the infected was still too sensitive in many places.
But Hurd didn't even blink. He just waved it off.
"That's it? Just an infection? Doesn't matter. Our family's not that narrow-minded. Infected folks are just regular people with an illness. Hemer's explained all this to me many times. You all just live in peace here. No one will lay a finger on you in this house."
Yoren felt a warmth rise in his chest. His throat tightened.
"Second uncle, you… you really are my second uncle."
"Haha! First time meeting you, but it already feels like we've known each other forever. I, Lao He, am laying it out right now—you stay as long as you like. Just tell me what you want to eat. If you want to work, go out and work. If not, stay home and rest. We're no aristocrats, but we can still provide for our kids."
Later, Yoren learned that Hurd's real name was Hurd, and he used to be a teacher before retiring. Hemer was both his niece and former student. She'd spent nearly her entire youth here. No wonder she was so close to him.
When Hemer had called earlier, the old man must have misunderstood her urgency, thinking it was her daughter that was coming.
Raising his glass again, Hurd turned to Yoren.
"So, tell me. Are you Hemer's boyfriend?"
"Pfft!" Yoren nearly choked.
"No, no! Don't go making assumptions! Hemer and I are just good friends—very good friends—but not that kind of relationship."
Hurd nodded with a chuckle.
"So, does Hemer have a boyfriend now?"
"Uh… maybe? But I'm not sure if it's… official."
"Ah, that girl, always taking her sweet time."
Yoren didn't dare say more.
Still, it was one of the most satisfying meals he'd ever had since arriving in Terra. It wasn't about the food—it was the feeling. The warmth. Family.
Even Snowsant looked visibly touched, her cheeks pink as she quietly ate. She must've felt the same.
After dinner, Hurd's wife arranged rooms for everyone. The house was large, plenty of space to go around. Snowsant and Ifrit were settled on the first floor, while Yoren and ACE each took a room upstairs.
They'd been running all day. Tomorrow could wait.
The next morning, Yoren slept in longer than he had in ages. His body felt weightless. Just one word: refreshed.
As he got dressed, he suddenly heard a commotion outside.
Peeking out the window, he saw a group of seven or eight rough-looking men surrounding the front gate.
One of them—shirtless and shouting—barked at Hurd, who stood firm in the yard.
"Old man! It's useless to resist! You'll get your demolition compensation. Why do you insist on making things hard for yourself?"
Hurd, gripping a shovel, didn't budge.
"Whether this house is demolished or not is none of your damn business. Who are you to show up with thugs and try to intimidate me?"
The lead thug clicked his tongue.
"We're just doing our job. This whole street is getting torn down. You've already got compensation waiting for you, but you refuse to leave and keep encouraging other residents to stay put too. That's making our job hard, old man. You're forcing us to use… other measures."
Hurd just laughed coldly.
"So you are just gangsters. I used to be scared of your kind. Not anymore. The Lao He family doesn't get bullied."
Just then, ACE stepped out wearing only a vest, muscles bulging like a wall of granite.
"Mr. Hurd, who are these guys?"
Ifrit followed, toothbrush in mouth, voice muffled.
"Second uncle and grandpa, what's going on?"
Yoren leaned out the window, pointing at the gang of men.
"You lot! If you've got the guts, stay right there. If you dare lay a finger on my second uncle—I'm coming down right now!"