The skyscrapers blurred. Florence trudged past it hurriedly, chasing after Feno, Jack, Aisling, Stella, and Sam. Her feet splashed onto the oil-painted pavement. She dragged Yuze along the street, who fell behind the rest.

The four packaging boxes wobbled side to side in Stella’s arms.

Feno halted. In front of her, the NPC boy with compound eyes clutched his knees. The dust poured between his fingers, piling up on the ground. He rolled to his side, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Florence bit her lips. The blood pulsed through her inflamed forearm. She shoved her way through. “Let me help,” she said.

“Why would you?” Feno kneeled down. “You’re not one of us after all.”

“I know a thing or two about taking care of wounds.”

“I’ll ask you this question. Have you ever managed to heal this sort of injury before? Now, answer me.”

“Pardon?”

“Exactly.”

Feno picked up the boy NPC with compound eyes and lifted him up. She then turned around and faced Florence.

“But… I didn’t answer you,” Florence said.

“Don’t worry about it.” Aisling smiled, tilting her head. “There is nothing you can do. Feno can handle it on her own.”

“Yeah,” Yuze said.

Florence lowered her head. “You know I can help,” she said. “I just… do not want them to be disappointed.”

Aisling squinted. “Who’s them?”

Florence trudged forward, lending her hand to Feno. But Feno simply walked past Florence without making any eye contact. Florence grabbed Feno’s hair, not letting it go.

“Just leave it to me. It’s none of your concern,” Feno said.

“What about it?” Florence tugged at Feno’s hair. “Let me do it, please.”

“Have you ever taken care of an NPC?”

“Well, absolutely not. But if I guess NPCs’ physiology is similar to people—except this boy has compound eyes and bleeding dust?”

“What’s people?”

“Apologies, I mean people, as in Players.”

Feno moved forward.

“Florence, I think you should kinda keep going,” Aisling said. “Didn’t you say you wanna get to District Nine and solve this supernatural case so you can kinda go back home to your sister?”

“Absolutely, but I could certainly still stop by and help others along the way,” Florence said. She followed behind Feno, holding onto the boy NPC. “Especially while I am trying to return home to my sister.”

Jack rubbed his lower back. “You don’t even know anything about him. So, why should you help him?”

“By the way, those things in the boxes… is kinda getting cold,” Aisling said

Florence looked over her shoulder. The corner of her mouth downturned. Certainly, she still must take care of her sister and fulfill her duties in her occupation back home. But she couldn’t turn a blind eye to the boy NPC. She shook her head, continuing onwards, following Feno, tugging Yuze along.

“Florence, come back right now,” Aisling said. “Hello? Are you listening to me, or are you deaf or something?”

“She is not deaf,” Jack said.

“I didn’t mean it literally.”

“Okay… fair enough.”

Yuze leaned closer to Florence.

Florence lagged behind with this increasing pressure on top of her.

Feno lifted her head up and sighed. “Fine,” she said. “Florence, you can come. Just stop bugging me, okay?”

Florence widened her eyes, grinding to a halt. Inside her chest, her heart danced.

“Why’re you standing there? Keep moving,” Feno said without looking back at them.

Florence slapped herself on the face.

“Great,” Feno said. “She went insane.”

“I’m not insane.” Florence clenched her fist, waving it in the air. “Am I?”

“Yeah, sure. You can come with me if you want.”

“Absolutely, you need my help.”

“By the way, I didn’t say that.”

Feno turned to a skyscraper nearby and walked towards it. The door slushed open, letting her into the building. Florence pulled Yuze along, going after Feno. Splashing footsteps reverberated throughout the chamber, which was decorated with portrait illustrations.

Aisling and Stella quickly followed from behind, with the entrance slushed shut.

“How are you certain this is where we could find some of the medical supplies?” Florence asked.

“Yeah, there isn’t much.” Feno glanced over the oil portrait of a young lady in blue pajamas. “This should do the trick.”

“Seriously? You wanna bother her again,” Aisling said.

Sam meowed and bounced onto the floor, wagging his tail. “Catnip. Does anyone have catnip?”

“Pardon me, could everyone stop for a minute?” Florence held her hand up, pointing at the compound-eyed boy NPC lying in Feno’s arms. “Why’re we taking him here?”

“Of course, there isn’t,” Feno said. “Does this place look like a drug store?”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“It doesn’t,” Florence and Sam said.

Yuze rubbed the back of her neck. “Weapons?”

“Of course not,” Feno said. She stared at Yuze for a second before turning away.

“Catnip,” Sam said.

Florence clapped, holding her hands together. “Pardon me, could we stay focused on helping this boy?”

“We don’t have that here,” Feno said.

The entire building rumbled, dripping droplets from the ceiling.

“Hey,” someone said with a booming voice. “Are all of you going to just stand here and talk?”

Florence spun around, rustling her dress. But everything remained the same, not a single change in sight.

“Yeah, you over there,” a booming voice said. “I’m right over here.”

“Who is it?” Florence asked.

An eerie silence followed.

Feno’s hair rustled, and she turned towards the portrait of a young lady in blue pajamas. Then, everyone else around Florence followed Feno.

“Pardon me, where are you going?” Florence asked.

“Yes, I could hear you nice and clear,” Feno said.

The portrait of a young lady in blue pajamas crossed her arms, furrowing her brow.

“Wait a minute.” Florence pointed at the portrait of a young lady in blue pajamas. “Did she just move?”

The young lady in blue pajamas sighed, rippling the oil paint on the portrait. “Are you blind?”

“She ain’t blind,” Jack said.

“Yup, but incredibly stupid,” Aisling said. “Not just any kinda stupid. It’s those that can kill you.”

Florence waved her around, stomping the floor. “Language.”

Aisling widened her eyes, shrugging at Florence.

“Do not act like that,” Florence said. “You know what you have done.”

“Nope, I didn’t.”

“Absolutely, you are right. How could I possibly not see that?”

“Nice sarcasm, man.”

“I’m not a man. I’m a woman.”

The portrait of a young lady in blue pajamas cleared her throat. Her fist slapped on her chest.

“I just want to borrow some medical equipment,” Feno said.

Florence gaped, raising her eyebrows. “You notice that you’re asking for a painting, which can also talk… apparently.”

“Of course, I can do that.” The portrait of a young lady in blue pajamas yawned, inspecting the scratch on the compound-eyed boy’s knee. “Just give me a sec,” she said. She kneeled down, receding from view out of that portrait she once stood in.

“Great, thanks a lot anyway,” Feno said.

Florence crossed her arms. “Pardon me, was she about to go to sleep?”

Yuze shook her head, leaning her body onto Florence. “Who?”

“Florence, ignore her,” Aisling said. “She zoned out.”

“Since when?” Florence asked.

“Like… I… I mean, a really long time.” Stella trembled. “I… I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Is it just me, or did Florence kinda get a head trauma,” Aisling said.

Florence held her hands up. “Wait a second, what do you mean by that?”

“She used to be a nurse… a really incompetent one,” Feno said.

The young lady in blue pajamas returned from the portrait to view, furrowing her eyebrows. She held a bandage, a bottle of saline solution, and a cotton wipe.

“Don’t worry,” Aisling said. She leaned closer to Florence’s ear, eyeing the young lady inside the portrait. “She is deaf.”

“I heard that,” the portrait of a young lady in blue pajamas.

“Thank you.” Florence stretched her hand to the portrait of a young lady in blue pajamas. “Can you give us those medical supplements? Young lady, you should get some rest.”

“Florence, give yourself a break,” Aisling said. “Don’t you wanna try to give that aunty inside the portrait a chance to deal with it?”

The portrait of a young lady laughed, wrapping her arms around her abdomen.

“What is funny about this?” Florence asked.

The laughter died down. A young lady in blue pajamas sighed, lowering her chin. She leaned on the edge of the portrait border. “Who needs sleep anyway? Also, by the way, I’m not that old.”

“Pardon?”

“You do notice that the clothes that I am wearing are not pajamas. But these are scrubs that I’m wearing.”

Aisling coughed, cupping her mouth. She glanced away from all of them.

“How can that young lady in the portrait care for this boy?” Florence asked.

The portrait of a young lady stretches her arms towards Florence, handing the supplies over.

“Pardon me, is this a yes or no?” Florence asked. “How am I supposed to know?”

“You know.” The portrait of a young lady smiled from the corner of her mouth. “I no longer do this sort of work anymore. I’m a ghost, after all.”

“I’m in danger.”

An eerie silence floated through the air as everyone turned towards Florence, staring at her.

Florence chuckled. “What did I do wrong?”

“You gotta be kidding me. You actually did it,” Aisling said.

The portrait of a young lady clicked her tongue, shoving the medical supplies onto Florence.

“Pardon me, was this a yes or no?” Florence asked.

“Both,” the portrait of a young lady said.

“Fine… I’m even more confused.”

“Exactly.”

Feno spun around. She lowered the compound-eyed boy to the floor, rippling the oil paint on the ground.

Florence kneeled down next to Feno.

Feno rustled her hair. “Florence, do it quickly now.”

“Don’t worry, I’m going to take good care of him,” Florence said.

“Florence, it’s like you’re trying to complete all the side quests at a slow pace.” Aisling massaged her shoulders, leaning onto the wall. “At this rate, we’re never gonna get to District Nine. Or even complete our occult detective contract at this point.”

“I… I mean, I don’t get it,” Stella said. “Why’re you saying it in a video game term?”

Florence raised her eyebrows. “How am I supposed to understand any of you? So, could all of you speak English?”

“They’re speaking English,” Feno said.

“It ain’t like everyone here has one brain cell left.” Jack rubbed his lower back. “More importantly, why isn’t there a single chair nearby?”

Florence rolled her eyes, unwinding the cotton swabs. She twisted open the cap of a saline bottle, pouring a solution out onto the cotton swabs. Without a second, she slapped it onto the scratch on the compound-eyed boy’s knee.

The compound-eyed boy screamed. Under his clothing, a blue glow shimmered in his chest. His knuckles cracked on Feno’s face.

Feno covered the spot where she got hit. “Why me?”

“Sorry… I didn’t mean it,” the compound-eyed boy said.

Florence wrapped and tied the bandage around the boy’s knee, covering the wound. From his nose, a nasal mucus flowed down to his lips.

“What is your name anyway?” Florence asked the compound-eyed boy.

“Mantidae,” the compound-eyed boy said. He sniffed. “My name is Mantidae.”

“Mantidae, listen to me carefully. You’ll be fine. Just make sure that you learn from your mistake.”

Mantidae nodded.

“Good,” Florence said.

“Sorry, I just thought that you’re going to… well… you know.” Mantidae made a slitting throat gesture. “You know that.”

“Absolutely not. Why would I do such a thing, silly.”

At this moment, Florence realized she had forgotten the ball. But she left it behind somewhere in the street.

“Hey,” Mantidae said. “I’m very good. The ball is not mine anyway.”

“Absolutely,” Florence said. She pushed herself off the floor, swashing the oil paint below. The skirt of her dress rustled. On the corner of her eyes, Sam pounced from Aisling’s shoulder, splashing to the oil-painted floor.

Sam purred, prowling towards the portrait of a young lady.

The portrait of a young lady waved back and forth. “What else do you all want?”

“Catnip,” Sam said. “Do you have catnip?”

“Why would I have that?”

Sam hissed. His tail stood up, twitching rapidly from left to right. He spun around, facing away from the portrait.

“By the way, I want to tell you a secret,” the portrait of a young lady said. She smiled like someone on the brink of insanity. Behind her, a reddish blur blended into the background. “Follow the smell,” she said.

“What smell?” Florence asked. “And you seem… different.”

But in the blink of an eye, the young lady in the portrait vanished. She was no longer there. What remained was… an empty canvas.