It was still 5 p.m. when the meeting ended and each one left for separate ways, so instead of heading back to his apartment, Luca chose to follow a different path.


    The building was closer to the hospital than his own place, so visiting now made sense He wasn’t sure if he’d have time in the coming days. Besides packing his suitcase and paying his rent for the next three months, he needed to give Victor a heads-up—most importantly, he needed to pay the man before his hunter dogs came after him. The sooner, the better.


    As he left Pendulum’s building and stepped onto the street, the buzzing city enveloped him. Skyscrapers loomed overhead, their glass facades reflecting the golden light of the setting sun. Giant LED displays flashed advertisements, and the sidewalks were crowded with people rushing home from work. Luca navigated the chaos with practiced ease, making his way toward the bus stop.


    His pocket vibrated, reminding him of the existence of his phone. Sometimes, he still forgot about it–even after two years. Maybe it was just his innate disdain for the thing.


    The name on the screen made him press the button to answer. After all, he had good news.


    “Oi, bastard,’ the voice crackled through the phone, ‘have you seen what day it is?’


    “Hello, Robert, how are you? I’m well, quite happy, thanks for asking–”


    “Don’t start,” the other man hissed. Luca could easily picture the shaggy, lanky man pinching the bridge of his nose, his expression a mix of frustration and exhaustion. “Do. You. Have. The. Money?”


    “Yes,” Luca answered, his tone bored as he reached the bus stop. A handful of people were already waiting, their eyes glued to their phones or staring blankly into the distance.


    “Hear me out, I don’t care if your brother–”


    “I told you,” Luca cut him off, his voice cold. The old woman next to him gave him a wary glance, and he softened his expression, stepping aside to give her more space. “I have the money.”


    “…You have the money,” Robert repeated slowly, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.


    “Yes,” Luca sighed. “I’ll send it to you in a couple of hours.”


    “…What the fuck do you do?” Robert asked, his tone not curious but tired. “Don’t tell me it’s about that cartel–”


    Luca snorted. “I’m not insane.” Well, not insane enough to get involved in something illegal, at least. “Tell Victor I’ll call him later. The money will be in your account the moment I get it from my new job.” Then he hung up.


    Pocketing his phone, Luca glanced at the sky, his thoughts drifting. Luckily, the bus arrived before he could dwell too long. He boarded, finding a seat near the back. It was rush hour, and the bus quickly filled with commuters, their tired faces illuminated by the glow of their phones. Luca ignored his, even when he felt it vibrate in his jacket, and closed his eyes for a moment.


    Only minutes later, he left his seat to an elderly woman and stood up near the back door, gripping the overhead rail as the bus lurched forward. Through the window, the city buzzed with life. The screens mounted on the sides of buildings flashed advertisements, their bright colors and bold text impossible to ignore. Of course, most of them were for Pendulum’s latest products.


    Luca’s eyes lingered on one ad in particular—a view of their newest breakthrough in genetic engineering. This time, it was a cancer treatment, a genetic surgery solution. No surprise there. Pendulum had already solved half of the genetic disorders discovered in the last two decades. It was only a matter of time before they jumped to this monumental train.


    But that was just one of their projects. Pendulum’s reach was everywhere–medicine, technology, even entertainment. A shame then, that even with their current list of discoveries, none of this was useful for his brother.


    Luca shook his head, pushing the thoughts aside as his stop approached. He stepped off the bus and into the bustling street, the hospital looming ahead. It was a modern structure with dark glass walls and a neat row of squared bushes lined the entrance. He walked through the automatic doors, the sterile scent of antiseptic already so familiar to him.


    The nurse at the front desk looked up as he approached, her face breaking into a warm smile. She could recognize him at first glance, having grown accustomed to seeing him almost all the days.


    “Good evening, Luca,” she said, her tone kind. “Go on ahead. He’s waiting for you.”


    Luca nodded, offering a small smile in return, and made his way down the familiar hallways without another word.


    Two years already, he thought, his footsteps echoing softly as he reached the last and emptiest area of the hospital. Only a few nurses walked around, busy with their work, and an old woman who entered before him. He knew her. Melissa Thompson. She had one of her sisters interned here –a stroke, sadly. And although she had the money to pay the ‘waking up’ pill, she was quite afraid of all the ‘advances’ outside the small world she knew.


    Meters from Melissa’s sister room was his own destination.


    He paused outside the familiar door, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    His little brother, Shawn, lay still in the hospital bed, his face pale but peaceful. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor filled the room. Yes. Shawn was still here, still fighting. Like expected from that brat.


    “Hey, Shawn,” Luca said softly, pulling up a chair and sitting beside the bed. He reached for his brother’s hand, his fingers brushing against the cool skin. The nurse had told him too many times that even if they didn’t look like it, the patients could hear and feel everything around them. And Shawn had been a small limpet that grew up and became a tactile guy. He didn’t think that the little brother in front of him could be so different.


    He swallowed. “I’ve got some great news. I landed a new job–full–time, at the number one company in the world. Gonna make a load of money with my skin on the line.” His mouth twitched. “Not bad for a guy without a degree, huh?”


    Shawn didn’t respond, but Luca hadn’t expected him to.


    “It’s going to be tough for me to visit as often as I used to,” he continued. “But you’re in good hands here. You just focus on waking up, buddy. We’ll have so much to catch up on when you wake up. You just cannot imagine.”


    He squeezed Shawn’s hand gently, his eyes drifting to the heart monitor and then to the small bouquet of flowers on the windowsill. They were quite messy, with only one of ten still intact, as if they had passed through a hurricane. Luca’s expression softened. “Your friends came by again,” he said. “They’re still counting on you to win the championship. Don’t let them grow old and grumpy.”


    He stayed a while longer, filling the silence with stories and updates. When it was time to leave, he stood slowly, letting his hand go little by little. Shaking his head, he let out a small sigh.


    “I’ll see you later,” he said, though the words felt heavy on his tongue. He didn’t know when he’d be back.


    (He didn’t know if he’d ever be back.)


    On his way out, he stopped by the nurse’s station. Miss Linda, a kind middle–aged woman who had been with Shawn since the beginning, looked up from her paperwork and smiled.


    “Please keep taking good care of him.”


    “Of course, Luca,” she replied, her tone warm and reassuring. “You take care of yourself too, alright?”


    “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll be careful.”


    The words didn’t taste like a lie as they left his mouth –he would take good care of himself, after all.


    It was already evening when he left, straight to his small apartment at the other side of the city.


    There was packing to do, after all. And another call to make.


    <hr>


    “Did you figure out what happened…?” Teresa asked, flipping through the folders scattered across the desk.


    Barbara sighed, leaning back in her chair. “A stroke of luck, that’s what. The guy spawned in the alley, woke up just as the killer was in one of the houses next to him–before the ten–minute mark. I think Miss Mariposa’s going to push for changing the time limits to avoid these kinds of flukes.”


    “Even so, a 0.1 Mystery rating is painfully low,” Teresa murmured, her brow furrowing. Then her expression brightened as she pulled out another file. “Oh, look–a really good one. 94%. Applicant 023452, Samantha Jill. Delta ‘L’ is going to be thrilled.”


    “Did they already sorted out…?” Barbara asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought they–”


    “Shh. You don’t hear this from me, but Lady Boss got a call from HQ–zilla. Yesterday at night.” Teresa whispered, giving her a look. “So, yes, it has been already sorted out. Delta–L gets her.”


    “… Let’s hope she lasts.”


    Teresa hummed in agreement, though her mind filled in the unspoken words. With a bit of luck, she’ll make it through the week.


    “Oh? 78%? Not bad,” Teresa continued, scanning another file. “Timothy Reeds. Only 21 years old. Pretty young.”


    “The oldest one was from the last batch,” Barbara remarked, tapping her pen against the desk. “What was he, 49? If I remember correctly. Which is a yes.”


    Teresa nodded absently. “We need more talent,” she muttered, frustration creeping into her voice. “And still, so few people pass… Genetics are tough.” She paused, her eyes widening as she picked up another folder. Her mouth curled up into a smile. “Ha. Look at this,” she passed the paper towards her, and saw the moment Barbara caught the number. “Yes, I know, this is like a fucking pink unicorn. It is from the guy who woke up first.”


    “Sorted out?”


    “Yes. Delta ‘M’, of course.” She set the folder down with a smile. “What do you have from the other branches?”


    Barbara scanned her notes. “A 59%, a 54%, and… I think there’s a 62% in there somewhere. Not so bad.”


    “Last month was worse. We got only a good one –and well, you know what happened,” she made a face.


    “Initial scores don’t mean much in the long run, though,” Barbara pointed out, frowning. “How many of them fail their first mission?”


    “Oh, don’t start,” Teresa groaned, waving a hand dismissively. “Let me have a little hope this time.”


    Barbara snorted, muttering something about “the last thing she lost.” Teresa didn’t take it personally. She was right, anyway. How much of those shining unicorns had turned into dead horses the first time their life was in the line? Too many to count.


    Perhaps this time will be different, Teresa thought, though she kept the sentiment to herself.


    The door swung open, and Williams strode in, closing it behind him with a sharp click. “Alright, spill it–what’s got Lady Boss in such a foul mood?”


    The two women exchanged a glance. “One of the participants with a 0.1 rating got lucky and ‘passed,’” Teresa explained. “Didn’t believe a word of it. Thought it was all a joke–you know, like back in the old days.”


    “Oh, man,” Williams muttered, his face twisting in sympathy. “What a mess. But that can’t be enough to have her brooding in her office. She even took off her glasses. She hasn’t done that since… what, three months ago? After the whole…” He mimed a beast devouring someone with his hands.


    Teresa shrugged. “Well, I don’t know anything more than that. Barbs?”


    Barbara shook her head, then frowned, as if remembering something. “Wait–I think I overheard something while grabbing coffee. Something about the latest product in the red branch. They’re missing something…?”


    Teresa’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me they need more data…?”


    “They’re using the Mystery about–” Williams started, then abruptly cut himself off, sighing heavily. “Damn it. The new recruits are going to be thrown into the dino pit as soon as they arrive, aren’t they?”


    Teresa slumped back in her chair,


    “Maybe… they’ll be okay,” Barbara offered, though her voice wavered with doubt.


    Teresa stared blankly into the distance, her expression hollow. “My poor shinnys…” she murmured. “What a shame.”


    “Don’t fret,” Williams said, trying to sound encouraging. “I’m sure they’ll take care of them. The specialists can step in if the situation gets bad enough.”


    Yeah, they can, Teresa thought, closing her eyes. But when was the last time they actually did that? They were so few that they were put on satin pillows until it was time to throw them into the pits. Which were not 1–star worlds.


    She sighed, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the desk. “We need to prioritize finding more ‘promises,’” she said, her tone firm despite her weariness. “We haven’t put enough effort into looking beyond our borders. Maybe we’ll get lucky and reel in a good catch.”


    Barbara raised an eyebrow. “A 90% catch?”


    “I don’t expect miracles,” Teresa admitted, rubbing her temples. “But a dozen 60% recruits might be enough to balance things out.”


    Williams, who had lingered by the door, suddenly piped up. “Before I forget–have you heard about that 1–star Mystery about cooking? It’s driving the guys from the yellow branch up the wall-”