Not gently.Not politely.
It came down in thick sheets, drumming against the cracked asphalt, blurring the streetlights into pale smears of gold. Water pooled around my shoes, cold seeping through the soles as I crouched near the edge of the road.
I held an umbrella above my head, though the wind kept trying to wrench it from my grip. Rain still found its way onto my sleeves, down my neck, into places warmth used to live.
I took a drag from the cigarette.
The smoke tasted bitter, damp, wrong—but familiar. It mixed with the smell of wet earth, oil, and rusted metal. Somewhere nearby, thunder rolled low and distant, like something breathing in its sleep.
I exhaled slowly.
The smoke vanished almost instantly, swallowed by the rain.
In front of me, Nola was busy.
She stood on her hind legs, front paws patting down the soaked soil with surprising seriousness. Each press made a soft, wet thud, mud squeezing up between her pads. She hummed quietly to herself as she worked, tail flicking back and forth.
"Do it properly," I said, flicking ash into a puddle."Those government bastards shouldn't find it."
She paused, looked up at me, rain clinging to the tips of her fur.
"Aye aye, captain," she replied cheerfully.
Then she went right back to work.
Rain soaked her thick coat, but it didn't bother her at all. Water beaded and rolled off her fur instead of sinking in. If anything, she looked… happy. Her movements were light, playful, like this was nothing more than a game in the rain.
Mud splashed her belly. She didn't care.
I adjusted the umbrella slightly, angling it to cover her more, though she didn't need it. The rain tapped steadily against the fabric above us, a dull, hollow sound that made the world feel smaller.
Quieter.
The hole in the ground slowly disappeared beneath packed earth and mud.
Whatever had been there—evidence, danger, proof—it was gone now.
Buried.
I took another drag and closed my eyes for a moment.
Rain on my face.Cold air in my lungs.The weight of everything unsaid pressing down on my shoulders.
No home.No side.No place to stand without being watched.
Just rain, smoke, and a small bear patting the ground like it mattered.
When Nola finally stepped back, she gave the spot a satisfied nod, then trotted over to me, shaking herself violently. Water sprayed everywhere.
"…Hey," I muttered. "Seriously?"
She just grinned.
I sighed, crushed the cigarette under my heel, and stood up.
"Alright," I said quietly."Let's go."
The rain kept falling.
And for once—
I let it.
Seeing Nola still playing around in the rain-soaked mud, I bent down and picked her up.
She protested immediately.
"I still wanna play," she squeaked, kicking her paws lightly.
I ignored her.
She huffed, then settled against my shoulder anyway, chin resting near my neck, eyes still watching the road with interest.
We walked.
The further I went, the worse it looked.
Military vehicles lay scattered along the roadside—crumpled metal, shattered glass, doors twisted open. Soldiers were sprawled everywhere. Some lay facedown in the mud like discarded mannequins. Others were slumped against wreckage, snoring softly, completely out cold.
No blood.
No movement.
Just the aftermath of something overwhelming and precise.
In the distance, sirens began to rise—ambulances first, then the heavier, sharper sounds of military transports closing in fast.
I didn't hurry.
I didn't slow down.
I just kept walking.
As if this road belonged to me.
I summoned the panel.
It hovered quietly in front of my eyes, rain passing through it like it wasn't there.
Name: Arin
Age: 25
Companion Beast: Bear Cub — Nola
Sanity:3%
Skills: Basic Disguise
????????
????????
????????
I wasn't surprised.
If anything, the number made sense.
I let the panel fade and glanced ahead. Headlights were already visible between the trees, sweeping the road in wide arcs.
Too close.
I stepped off the road and slipped into the bushes.
Leaves brushed against my arms as I crouched low. The rain helped—masking sound, breaking outlines. I moved quickly but carefully, shrugging out of the suit.
Casual clothes replaced it.
A plain T-shirt.Loose night pants.
The suit vanished into the beast-taming space.
Then I focused.
Just a little.
My face shifted—not drastically. No dramatic change. Just enough to blur familiarity. A subtle adjustment to posture, to expression, to presence.
Anything more would drain my stamina too fast.
I didn't need perfection.
I needed ordinary.
When I stepped back onto the road, I was just another guy walking through the rain.
No cuffs.No suit.No incident.
Nola peeked over my shoulder, eyes bright.
"Master," she whispered, impressed, "you look boring."
"…That's the point," I muttered.
We walked on.
Behind us, sirens screamed and lights flooded the road.
Ahead of us—
Nothing.
Just rain, wet asphalt, and a city that had already decided to forget.
And for now?
I was walking on my own, minding my own business.
To avoid attention, I slipped Nola into the beast-taming space. Walking around with a bear cub on my shoulder would've raised too many questions.
I hadn't gone far when a military vehicle slowed beside me.
Then stopped.
The window rolled down.
A young officer leaned out, his expression sharp and suspicious."Hey. You. Stop."
I stopped.
He started asking questions—where I was going, where I came from, why I was here. His tone was aggressive, impatient, like he'd already decided I was guilty of something.
I shrugged.
Stayed silent.
Deadpan.
That only made him angrier.
"Hey! I'm talking to you!" he snapped, starting to ramble louder and louder.
Before he could escalate further, someone in the back seat sighed.
"Enough," an older voice said.
A veteran officer leaned forward, his face lined, eyes tired but sharp.
"Stop it, you moron," he scolded calmly."You're probably scaring the kid. We already have a terrible reputation with civilians—don't make it worse."
The younger soldier shut his mouth immediately.
The veteran looked at me again, his tone softening.
"The town's nearby," he said."Want a ride?"
I hesitated for half a second.
No hostility.No pressure.
I nodded.
I climbed into the vehicle.
The engine started, and we moved.
I ended up sitting beside the same young officer. He stared at me like I'd personally offended nine generations of his ancestors.
I ignored him.
The veteran noticed and sighed again.
"Stop staring at the poor kid," he snapped."Focus on your job."
The officer finally looked away, jaw tight.
I kept my expression flat.
The radio crackled.
"—We lost three members. The remaining seven are now being escorted."
The mood inside the vehicle dropped instantly.
"Damn it," one soldier cursed."Those criminals got away."
I frowned slightly.
Criminals… huh.
We drove a little further.
A restaurant came into view ahead.
"Stop there," I said suddenly.
The vehicle slowed and pulled over.
I stepped out and gave the veteran a small bow."Thank you."
He nodded once.
The vehicle drove off.
I turned and started walking toward the restaurant.
Halfway there, I pulled something from the beast-taming space.
A purse.
The young officer's purse.
Inside were identification cards, personal items… and a neat stack of credits.
I didn't even look back.
Behind me, inside the vehicle—
"DAMN IT!" the officer screamed."MY PURSE IS GONE!"
Laughter exploded from the back seats.
"No way.""You lost it already?""How does someone even do that?"
No one suspected me.
I'd been sitting right in front of them the entire time.
By the time the teasing started turning cruel, I casually tossed the empty purse into a trash bin. I counted the cash quickly.
Five thousand credits.
"…Not bad," I muttered.
I slipped the money into my pocket and continued walking toward the restaurant.
Just another ordinary guy.
Nothing suspicious at all.
And for once—
That was exactly what I wanted.
Inside the hotel, I sat at a small table near the window.
Nola sat on the tabletop, paws spread out, playing with a spoon she'd somehow stolen when I wasn't looking. She tapped it against the wood, clearly entertained.
A waitress approached.
"Sir, what would you like to—"
I pulled out four thousand credits and placed them directly into her palm.
She blinked.
Before she could say anything else, I spoke.
"Meat."
She hesitated, probably about to list the menu.
I repeated myself.
"…Meat."
She sighed, defeated."Fine, sir."
She took the credits and walked away without another word.
A few minutes later, the table was full.
Steaming plates. Thick cuts. Skewers. Bowls of broth heavy with fat and spice. The smell alone made my stomach tighten.
Nola squeaked happily and immediately dug in, completely abandoning any sense of manners. Grease smeared her muzzle. She looked proud.
We ate in silence.
No rush.No conversation.
Just food, warmth, and the simple act of existing.
When we finished, I picked Nola up under one arm and stood.
That's when I saw it.
A police van screeched to a stop outside the hotel.
The doors flew open, and an old man was shoved out roughly onto the wet pavement. The van didn't wait—it sped off immediately, tires splashing water as it disappeared down the road.
The old man lay there for a second.
Then he scrambled to his feet, shouting.
"I'M NOT A MAD MAN!" he screamed at the empty street."LET ME PROVE IT! I'M TELLING THE TRUTH!"
He rambled incoherently, waving his arms, voice hoarse and desperate.
I frowned.
…Isn't he—
Recognition clicked.
The YouTube video.
The "lunatic."
The one who talked about people disappearing at twenty-five.
Seeing him like this—soaked, abandoned, shouting at no one—I let out a quiet sigh.
I turned away.
As I headed for the exit, the old man staggered upright and pushed open the hotel door, still muttering to himself.
We passed each other.
He didn't recognize me.
I didn't acknowledge him.
The bell above the door chimed softly as I stepped outside.
And behind me—
Truth walked back inside, still screaming to be heard.