The sun hung lazily in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the village as the group walked down the dirt path, their stomachs somewhat full from their earlier meal with Chief Saya.
Zane, walking with his hands folded behind his head, let out a dramatic sigh.
"So," he started, "why exactly are we getting involved in this whole mess?"
Aron, who had been mentally five steps ahead of reality, blinked. "What?"
Zane gestured vaguely. "You know, the missing people, the mysterious disappearances, the possible murder ghost. We're not from this world, right? Why are we playing detectives in a land where we don't even belong?"
Livia gave him a look like she was disappointed he could even breathe. "Because, Zane, you absolute walnut, we don't know if we can even go back."
Zane tilted his head, still confused. "Yeah, but—"
Aron, who had infinite patience until he didn't, cut in smoothly.
"Zane. Think about it. We don't know how we got here. We don't know if there's a way back. And even if there is a way back, we have no idea where to start."
Zane frowned slightly but stayed silent as Aron continued.
"If we go around shouting, 'Hey, we're not from here!' we'll sound insane. We have no background, no documentation, no real way to prove who we are. If anything happens, we'll be treated as suspicious outsiders."
Livia smirked. "Or just straight-up executed for being weird."
Zane blinked at that. "Wait—"
"So," Aron continued, ignoring Zane's growing horror, "our best move is to integrate ourselves into this world. Gain some standing. Build connections. That way, when trouble comes—and it will come—we at least have a background to fall back on."
Zane stared at him for a long moment, then tilted his head even further, looking like a confused puppy.
"…Basically, we just pretend we belong and do what we can to survive."
Zander, who had been quietly listening, said. "We just want identity cards to integrate and this is the office that will issue us those cards."
Aron glanced at Zander, slightly surprised. The soldier had managed to simplify his entire complex reasoning into one straightforward sentence.
There was a moment of understanding between them.
A rare one.
Zane finally sighed. "Alright, alright. Fine. I get it. But next time, just say it like Zander did."
Aron rolled his eyes. "That would have been too easy."
Back at the house Chief Saya gave them, the group decided to cook dinner.
And by cook, they meant commit an absolute crime against food.
The problem?
None of them could cook.
"I feel like this was a bad idea," Zane muttered, looking at the vegetables Aron had found.
"What's the worst that could happen?" Livia grinned.
She should NOT have asked that question.
Aron accidentally started a small fire by heating oil too fast.Zander tried to cut vegetables but ended up breaking the knife.Livia forgot to wash the vegetables, so they ended up with dirt-flavored soup.Zane got flour on his face and decided, if I have to suffer, so does everyone else and threw it at Aron.Aron retaliated.Flour war.Zander got caught in the crossfire.Now everyone looked like ghostly disasters.
By the time the "meal" was finished, the kitchen looked like a battlefield.
Zane sat at the table, poking at his bowl. "I'm not saying this looks poisonous, but I feel like if I eat it, I'll never wake up again."
Aron, fully done, sighed. "Then don't eat it."
Zane stared at him. "But then I'll be hungry."
Livia smirked, taking a very questionable bite of her food. "Tough luck, husband."
Zane gagged. "LIVIA. DO NOT BRING OUR FAKE MARRIAGE INTO THIS."
Zander, ignoring all of them, took a bite. He did not react.
"...It's edible," he finally said.
Aron blinked. "Are you sure? I feel like it's a health hazard."
Zander shrugged. "I've eaten worse."
Zane stared. "What have you eaten?"
Zander didn't answer.
Zane gulped.
After dinner, the group sat around the small wooden table, discussing everything they knew.
"So," Aron began, resting his chin on his palm, "let's go over what we have."
Chief Saya knows the Fairy Lord. She defends him, meaning she might know something she's not saying.Kinisha's reaction to her son being missing was too emotional, almost like she had lost someone before.Chief Saya's weird obsession with marriage.
Zane frowned. "I still don't get what's up with that."
Aron sighed. "Me neither, but we'll figure it out later."
Livia leaned back. "Kinisha's reaction is the one that sticks out to me. It felt too personal."
Aron nodded. "Like she's experienced this before."
Zander crossed his arms. "Chief Saya said the kidnappings happen on the last night of the Lunar Month."
Aron's sharp eyes gleamed. "Right. And what's the time gap between incidents?"
Livia counted on her fingers. "Two years ago. Then ten months ago. And now."
Zane groaned. "Why does this feel like math?"
Aron smirked. "Because it is."
Zane gagged.
Aron ignored him. "If a year is the gap time, then that means—"
"The missing villagers are safe until tonight," Livia finished, eyes widening.
The realization hit all of them at once.
Zane shot up from his seat. "Wait, WAIT. So we have, like, one night to find them before something BAD happens?!"
"Exactly," Zander said, standing up as well.
Zane threw his hands in the air. "WHY DID WE WASTE TIME COOKING POISON THEN?!"
Aron ignored him again. His mind was moving at lightning speed.
"There's only one person who might know where they are."
Zander, grasping the main point immediately, said at the same time as Aron—
"Kinisha. She's the clue."
For a moment, they just stared at each other.
There was a mutual understanding—a sharp, unspoken realization.
Zane blinked, looking between them. "Wow. You two just had a brainwave moment."
Livia smirked. "It's called having high-functioning IQs, Zane."
Zane scoffed. "I'll have you know my IQ is at least seventy."
Livia patted his head. "Sure, buddy."
Zane huffed. "You people are awful."
Aron stood up. "Enough messing around. We need to go. Now."
Zander nodded. "Agreed."
Without wasting another second, the group rushed out the door, their messy, ridiculous, and flour-covered night behind them.
It was time to find Kinisha.
And time was running out.