Hans pushed his door open. Murray was leaning to the right next to the entrance of his house. Hans looked at him, and he stood upright.

“Thanks for waiting.”

Hans looked half-decent after a good bath. Murray started moving, and Hans followed him, his fedora hat on.

“So, we’re going to Alfie’s?”

“Uh-huh.”

Hans never really had a grudge against Alfie. It was the simple fact that Alfie was a… Hans wasn’t sure words could define a personality like his.

“Why Alfie, though?”

“Why not?”

“Alfie’s a fool.”

“Exactly,” Murray said, chuckling a bit. “He’s the type of person who’d enter a burning building to save a rat he picked off the street.”

Hans nodded. Alfie wasn’t a real hunter, though he just had the spirit of one. Alfie was the bravest person Hans knew, second only to Murray. He remembered when Alfie had jumped out of a ship all those years ago just because Murray dared him to. He almost drowned, but the fish he shoved inside his pocket was delicious. He was eventually saved by officials.

In short, Alfie was a brave idiot. Hans had finally reached his house—a place four times the size of Hans’ own.

“So, who’s knocking on the door?”

“Not it.”

“Not it,” Hans said, seconds too late. Murray stood behind him, giving him thumbs up as he approached the door. His fingers were sweating a bit too much as he knocked.

“Coming!”

A beautiful male voice answered. Heavy footsteps resounded, and the door pulled open. Hans craned his neck as the figure in front of him towered over him by a good two inches. His blonde hair, accompanied by deep purple eyes and alabaster skin, along with his stout nose, made him striking.

In short, he was gorgeous. This was the reason Hans didn’t like Alfie. Call it petty jealousy if you will.

Alfie pulled Hans into a tight bear hug, picking him off the ground.

“I’m here as well,” Murray said.

“Murr, you came too!”

Hans choked under Alfie’s grip. “Let go,” Hans managed to choke out. Alfie released him.

“You did that on purpose,” Murray said, walking up to Hans, who was now breathing heavily. Hans entered, passing Alfie.

“Aw, come on, Hans. Don’t be like that.” Hans looked back, then turned his glare—threatening enough to shut Alfie up.

Hans looked around. Five metal chairs sat near a TV on a table in front of it. The floor was covered with a furry rug, and the walls were neatly painted. At least five doors led to other rooms.

It was the complete opposite of his house. Small footsteps were heard from another room. Hans stood right next to a chair. Murray and Alfie were behind him at the entrance.

A woman opened the door. White strokes of hair were frequent in her locks, and her wrinkled face showed her age. She seemed to be in her late fifties. She looked exactly like Alfie, if he were older and a woman.

“Hans, what a pleasant surprise. And no, I won’t give you a loan.”

He didn’t ask. Her eyes darted to Murray.

“What do you want?”

Alfie’s mum had never really liked Murray. Hans couldn’t blame her. He wouldn’t either, considering Murray’s reputation.

“Miss Rodd, calm down. I’m here to talk,” Murray said, his hands in front of him.

“The last time you said that, you got my son to run all around town shouting your shop’s name for the sake of advertisement.”

“You really did that?” Hans asked, eyes wide open.

Murray looked a bit nervous as Alfie glared at him.

“Murr, I thought you said that was good exercise.”

Hans stared at Murray. His reputation was indeed noteworthy.

“This time’s different, I swear. If you would let me talk to your son in private…”

Miss Rodd didn’t seem to buy it. “Let me prepare something for you, Hans.”

Hans nodded, sitting down on a seat. It wasn’t necessarily comfy, but it was better than nothing. Miss Rodd left the room. Murray sat down on the seat near the main table.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“She’s not the fondest of you, is she?” Hans asked.

“Never mind the hag,” Murray said.

Alfie choked on nothing. Murray didn’t seem to care.

“Alfie, I think you should sit down,” Hans warned him.

“Shut up, Hans,” Murray said briskly.

Alfie sat in front of Murray, confused. Murray then told him everything he needed to know about the expedition. Alfie seemed to listen attentively, his expression a mix of surprise and bewilderment.

“Wow, sounds exciting,” Alfie said, jealousy all over his voice.

Wait. Jealous? Hans had overestimated Alfie’s sense.

“Alfie, you idi…” Murray put his hand over Hans’ mouth before he could finish his sentence. He sighed, showing his resignation, then let go.

“How’d you feel if I said you can come with us?”

“Really?” Alfie said, excitedly. “I can finally be a hunter!”

Hans knew this was also half the reason Murray approached Alfie. They were both passionate about their goals. Normally, there were dream jobs people would love to do. As a Remnant, there were six highly coveted jobs:

Seekers, who’d travel the seas for knowledge of new creatures and serve as leaders and messengers.

Hunters, who slay new species and bring them to scientists and pharmaceuticals, and sometimes fight as soldiers in war.

Scientists, who create weapons and chemicals out of the bodies of dead creatures for war.

Pharmaceuticals, who create medicine out of the bodies of dead creatures. These drugs have made way for cures that ended pandemics and cured diseases once thought incurable.

Land markers studied regions for weeks or even months before sending ships. Their role was to map the unexplored, carefully analyzing which creatures lived in a region, its climate, and potential hazards. Once a region was deemed viable, the mother vessel would be sent—an empty, fully-equipped city designed to serve as the foundation for colonization. The first citizens, usually from overpopulated areas, would follow shortly after, marking the beginning of a new settlement.

And then there were the Farmers. Once considered a minor profession before the Flood, they became central to the survival and prosperity of the Remnants. While organic materials that weren’t derived from animals became nearly impossible to find after the Flood, the invention of artificial soil revolutionized the industry. This innovation transformed farming into one of the most lucrative trades, elevating Farmers to unprecedented levels of importance. Today, the wealthiest individuals were often CEOs of large farming corporations, wielding significant influence over global trade.

Alfie, however, wanted to be a Hunter. From childhood, it was his dream, though Hans always questioned why he remained in Ydgar instead of pursuing that goal. Alfie had the talent—of that, there was no doubt—but something always seemed to hold him back.

“I knew it,” Miss Rodd’s voice interrupted Hans’s thoughts, sharp and resolute. It carried from the other room as the door clicked open. She stepped in, her face a mask of agitation.

“The answer is no,” she declared.

Alfie’s expression turned from curiosity to surprise as he stood. Murray rose immediately after him, while Hans reluctantly got up, muttering internally about how he’d just gotten comfortable.

“Mum, why not?” Alfie asked, his voice tinged with both frustration and confusion.

“Shush. You don’t know what’s good for you,” Miss Rodd snapped. Her piercing gaze shifted to Murray, who stood smirking by the side.

“You didn’t really leave in the first place,” she said coldly.

“Ma’am, if I may…” Hans began.

“Quiet! I’m not talking to you,” she shot back, silencing him.

Hans, caught in the crossfire, attempted to speak but was similarly shut down. “Miss Rodd, this is my chance,” Alfie pleaded.

Her sharp eyes turned to her son. “Do you think I’d let you go out and do the same thing Marcus did? And die doing it?”

Hans flinched at the mention of Alfie’s brother. Marcus had perished three years ago when a Seeker’s ship sank en route to the capital. Hans had seen despair before, but the look on Alfie’s face was something he hadn’t expected—a mix of heartbreak and resolve.

Alfie loved Marcus. Hans thought of him as a big brother.

“Miss Rodd, it’s not up to you to decide his choices,” Murray interjected, his tone unusually serious.

Her finger pointed at Murray like a dagger. “Don’t try to be clever with me, Murray. Do you know how many Seekers have tried to lure my son into their ranks to face those monsters? And now you think I’d let him go with you?”

Alfie’s voice trembled, the cheer gone. “You did that?”

The revelation had clearly been heavy on Alfie.

“Miss Rodd, I understand your concern. Even I…” Hans began, only to be cut off once more.

“Quiet, Hansen,” she snapped, using his full name. “You of all people should understand my worry. Your father died as a Hunter, leaving you and your sick mother to fend for yourselves.”

The thought of his father brought Hans down to earth. He couldn’t even remember his father’s face. The memory brought a mix of emotions. He wouldn’t want anyone to go through the hell he endured after his father’s death. Miss Rodd’s words made him reevaluate the expedition.

The risks were undeniable, and their chances of survival slim. Even he had joined this uncertain expedition out of sheer desperation.

Miss Rodd sighed heavily, her gaze softening as she turned back to Alfie. “Come to your senses, son. Being a Hunter is too risky.”

“Shouldn’t it be up to me?” Alfie’s voice was quiet but firm.

“What?” she asked, her voice tinged with incredulity.

“I said, shouldn’t it be up to me?” he shouted, surprising everyone in the room. Murray seemed both impressed and anxious, while Hans could only watch in stunned silence.

Miss Rodd’s face showed a mixture of hurt and disbelief. Hans had seen that expression too often on his own face not to recognize it. It spoke of betrayal, confusion, and sorrow all at once.

“No, it’s not,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “You don’t get it, do you? He’s trying to use your stupidity against you.”

“Mom, I know I’m not the brightest bulb in the pack, but I know this is something I want to do. And you can’t stop me.”

Miss Rodd’s expression hardened. “So you’re going to follow a delusional man chasing impossible dreams, dragging a friend who has no other choice, and putting yourself in a death trap waiting to happen?”

“Mum, trust me. Please,” Alfie implored.

Her shoulders sagged slightly, as though the weight of the conversation had taken its toll. “You won’t back down, will you?” she asked quietly.

“It seems so,” Murray interjected with a chuckle, only to be silenced by Miss Rodd’s glare.

She reached out, gently petting Alfie’s hair. “The answer is still no,” she said firmly.

Murray’s eyes widened. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he blurted.

Alfie raised a hand, signaling Murray to stop. “Murr, just go,” he said, his tone resigned.

Hans sighed, heading for the door with Murray trailing behind. “Well, that went well,” Hans muttered sarcastically.

“Would you please stop being sarcastic?” Murray replied, unusually carefree.

Hans turned to him with a skeptical look. “Do you have someone else in mind?”

“Nope,” Murray said flatly.

Hans groaned, slapping his forehead. “Then why bother asking her in the first place?”

Murray smirked. “Just wait for it.”

“What do you mean?” Hans asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Knowing Alfie, is he the type to step down that easily?” Murray said confidently.

Hans shook his head, uncertain whether instigating rebellion in a peaceful mother-son relationship was a good idea. But at least there was a shaky third member on the team now.