Code Collector

Allen's eyes twitches as he stood outside the building where the Bryans' firm was located. He didn't know what exactly happened, but his time to serve the lawyers were now shortened by a week.

He sighed and looked around, trying to digest the things that had happened. He was in a neighboring city from where he was living before he got the power of the Snake, so he decided to travel to his hometown.

From the months that he had left, nothing much has changed. The streets looked the same, the people looked the same, and the misery that was left by his past was still lingering in the apartment he used to live at.

"Hello? May I help you?" a woman's voice spoke beside Allen. This made the boy turn to the side and made contact with a plump woman who had short and curly hair. She was wearing a loose pink sundress while her eyeglasses sat on top of her head.

This was Mrs. Day, the landlady of the apartment that Allen used to rent. Though she looked quite strict intimidating, Mrs. Day was a woman who was kind and gentle, qualities that Allen barely saw in people. She was the one who had the patience to let Allen get behind on his rent for a couple of months, giving him food when he had none, and giving him warmth when he was cold.

"O-Oh," Allen stutters, not sure what to say. "I was just looking around here. A friend of mine used to live here, but then he…"

"Oh," Mrs. Day placed her hand in Allen's shoulder. Even when she could barely reach him, she still has the same kindness that she possessed before. This made Allen smile. "I guess you were Allen's friend?"

Allen froze after the mention of his name. He looked at Mrs. Day who had a wide smirk on her face. "Yes, child. I know you're talking about that boy."

"Did you have any news as to what happened to him?" Allen asked.

Mrs. Day shook her head, a smile filled with sadness and sorrow plastered on her lips to cover her grief. "The Hunters said that he went missing and that they would find him. They tried to pay the remaining balance that Allen had, but I didn't accept the money. Allen's stuff will remain in his room."

"But it's been months," Allen said. "Aren't you losing any hope?"

"Lose hope?" Mrs. Day chuckled. "Why, I would never. Until I see the child's cold dead body, I refuse to believe that he has left the world. He was a fighter, and he's a boy that's filled with hope and dreams. He won't croak that easily."

The woman's words wanted to squeeze tears out from Allen's eyes. The boy did his best to stop it, but the emotions were getting stronger by the second. "Can I see his room?"

Mrs. Day smiled, this time the sadness left her face. "Okay. Let me just find the key."

Mrs. Day left Allen in front of the building while she went to the house beside it. The house was where Mrs. Day lived along with her husband and their son whom Allen never met for some reason.

A couple of minutes back, Mrs. Day returned with a familiar face that allen could smirk at. "It's you, huh?"

"Oh," Rourke chuckled. "It's been a while."

The smaller boy waved his hand to Allen and gave the latter a warm hug, whispering in Allen's ear, "Why are you hear, twat? Aren't you supposed to take a client's deal?"

"I finished," Allen replied. "I'm waiting for tonight so Elvis can pay me. In the meantime, I decided to visit my apartment before. I'm not doing anything wrong here."

Rourke loosened the hug, "Oh? Well, that's good. At least Allen knows a true friend. I'm one of those people who believe that he's still alive."

For a moment, Allen forgot that no one knew that he was Allen except for himself. All the others knew was that he was the Wandering Trader, and that he possessed the Snake, but apsrt from that he was still clear.

Allen tilted his head to the side, "You know Allen?"

"Who doesn't know him?" Rourke chuckled. "He was pampered by Lewis's team before an accident came and he became basically crazy. He would randomly scream and cry, no schedule, no nothing. He just does."

Allen knew all of these and he had accepted them. After Alice's death, he got depressed and created scenarios in his head that weren't real. He made himself into the miserable boy that he was.

"We're here!" Mrs. Day announced. "Oh, the cardboard boxes are still here. But there's too much dusk. Rourke, remind me to clean this room up. We don't know when Allen might come back."

"You clean the room?" Allen asked, lookig around and absorbing the nostalgia that the room gave him. The emotions were strong, but they felt numb for Allen. The truth will set you free, and in his case, it did.

"We clean the room once every two weeks," Rourke said. "Mom don't want Allen to return to a dirty room, so she hires a cleaning lady to clear the dust. Though we didn't really changed anything, we just clean it."

"That's nice," Allen whispered. He walked around a couple of times more before his eyes were stuck on a small desk beside the bed. There was a picture frame there of him and his previous team, when Alice was still alive and he was still happy.

"He must've been a good kid for you to take care of him like this," Allen chuckled.

"Why, of course!" Rourke said. "Mom treated Allen like her second son, actually her first son since she takes care of him more than me."

"Allen, boy. Why are you injured?"

"Are you okay, Allen?"

"Have you eaten yet? Here, I made us soup."

"I wish you nothing but happiness, Allen. And also strength because you need strength to fight beasts in the Otherworlds."

…

Mrs. Day's voice filled Allen's mind. His memories of the woman were resurfacing and every interaction they had was playing in his head on top of the other. 

It was painful, it was sad. Allen wanted to cry, but he couldn't possibly do it. Rourke was here. He needed to pretend like he was strong 

Before Allen could even say anything, a warm pair of arms had embraced him. His eyes widened after he saw Mrs. Day wrap her arms around him like a warm blanket on a cold stormy night. The heat was melting his heart, and he couldn't stop the tears from falling.

He was now crying. The pain entered his wound, the pain entered his soul. The water was gushing from his eyes as he slowly felt himself get lulled to sleep by his own intense emotions.

"Mrs. Day," Allen croaked. "Thank you."

–

A cold rainy night in the fourth world, Star Nest. The camp was different from the previous worlds. Instead of a gigantic wall that was surrounding a city, the Star Nest's camp was composed of a large dome with twenty cottages inside.

On one end of the dome was a hole that was covered with strong electric waves to keep the beasts out. The only way for the electric waves to deactivate was for an authorized Hunter to speak the words.

"This is Sun Sonata, open the gate," a man with a rather muscled figure said as he entered the dome. His body was hairy and he had a gold band on his foreheaf while red markings on his face. "It's hard to be the Monkey King."

Behind Sun was his pole that was carrying a giant beast. The beast was similar to a giant hedgehog, but its claws were sharp and its body was made of crystals. 

"You're rather fond of crystals these days," Kenneth commented. He walked over to Sun and looked around. "But only one? I think you're such a slacker, Sun."

Bernard came over to join in their conversation, "Kenneth, you know that we're not allowed to wander around Star Nest just yet. Even Miss Lin and the late chairman had to restrict themselves."

"But the Snake isn't restricting himself!" Kenneth said. "You knew all too well how much the Snake's popularity had grown these past few days. They could form a large crowd, make the crowd pay them their Codes and level up so he can even surpass us."

"Has grief taken over that petty little mind of yours?" Remy walked over to them. "If there was a suspicious activity in any Skill Altar, the wardens would report to us right away. That's just not right if that's what you believe in"

"What do you mean, Remy?" Bernard asked.

"The one who killed the chairman wasn't the Snake, but somebody different," she said. "Someone that we don't expect."

"And your basis?" Bernard asked.

Remy sighed, "The Snake can't kill Drake Nelson as easily. The killer must be different. Like one of us."