Two minutes later, from the main street, Zavi rushed toward the source of the gunshot, pushing through the crowd that filled the sidewalk.
The moment he spotted a narrow gap between two houses, he slipped in, convinced the gunshot had come from there.
Behind the damp wall, on top of a stack of boxes, Dave and a teenage boy were sitting side by side. As soon as they saw Zavi approaching, both stood up. Dave stepped forward first and greeted him with a tense expression.
"Do they know I brought this kid with me?" Dave asked, glancing toward the street.
Still out of breath, Zavi stared back at him with a hoarse voice. "I don't know. But they definitely heard that gunshot of yours!"
"My gunshot?" Dave frowned. "What are you talking about?"
Zavi froze for a second. "Huh? So that wasn't you? I thought it was a signal."
Before Dave could respond, Zavi sensed something—an indistinct presence coming from the corridor ahead. Dark, damp, unlit. But the footsteps were clear, slow… deliberate… and drawing closer.
Then, from within the darkness—
Dave emerged… another Dave, his suit covered in dust, his face slightly battered and suddenly pale, carrying a teenage boy over his shoulder.
The new Dave's expression was pale, confused, just as shocked as Zavi.
Zavi looked at the Dave beside him, who also stared back at him with an unreadable, blank face.
The narrow corridor fell silent…
Zavi realized one thing: he was standing between the real Dave… and something wearing Dave's face.
"Who is he, Zavi?" the real Dave asked, confused, staring at Zavi standing several meters ahead. Both Davess exchanged a glance across the corridor.
"Uh, brother… over there," the teenage boy whispered, pointing at Zavi. "There's someone who looks exactly like you, and..."
Before he could finish, Dave replied with a trembling voice, "Yeah, I know what you're thinking! Just stay quiet and don't move, okay?" Dave turned his head, looking at the panicked boy on his shoulder.
Meanwhile, the fake Dave standing beside Zavi burst into loud laughter, shattering the tense silence of the corridor, realizing his disguise had failed.
"I've been found out…" He turned his head toward Zavi, who was still trying to make sense of the situation.
A thunderous roar echoed again, far louder this time, strong enough to make the ground tremble. And the sun had vanished from the horizon, swallowed completely by a gray sky.
The two Davess locked eyes sharply, and a moment later, the fake Dave grabbed the hand of the teenage boy beside him—and the boy's body dissolved into a swirl of black smoke.
Moments later, a neatly groomed man with black hair appeared, wearing a brown shirt beneath a long black coat. His sharp blue eyes darted left and right, studying the three of them intently.
Zavi's eyes widened, and so did Dave's and the boy hanging over his shoulder.
Click…
The man snapped his fingers and said, "No need to stare at me like that!" He paused to take a breath. "I'm an acquaintance of yours, remember, Zavi?"
He turned his head, gazing at Zavi, who looked utterly confused as he stared back.
Huh? Who is he? I don't remember having an acquaintance like him.
Zavi fell silent, closing his eyes to recall the man standing beside him. After several seconds, he gave up—he had no idea who this person was.
Strangely, he didn't remember that this man was Carlz Vairanz, the person he had shot the night before and briefly spoken with afterward.
"So, who are you? I don't know you!" he said, unable to recall him clearly.
Carlz let out a slow sigh, thinking that his acquaintance's brother—and apparently the younger one too—were equally troublesome, both unable to remember him properly.
He approached Zavi, stopping just inches in front of him to tell him something.
"The person you shot last night… Do you not remember?" he whispered.
Zavi frowned, turning his head slightly as he studied Carlz's face amid the thunder and darkening clouds.
"Where are your glasses?" Zavi finally realized after hearing the remark; he hadn't recognized Carlz without them.
From Zavi's perspective, he had never seen Carlz's real appearance clearly—Carlz was too good at disguising himself and acting as someone else, like the cloaked figure he had pretended to be earlier.
Hearing that, Carlz realized his mistake and pulled a pair of glasses from his coat pocket.
"Thanks for reminding me." Carlz wiped them clean with a cloth before putting them on.
Zavi let out a soft chuckle. "Now I can recognize your face… even if I still don't know your name."
Meanwhile, Dave watched them chatting casually, aware that Zavi was far too relaxed around strangers who appeared out of nowhere and could shapeshift into him.
He walked steadily toward the two of them.
"Ahh… Carlz Vairanz. Nice to meet you," he said with a friendly smile, offering his hand.
The thunder rumbled louder than before, signaling rain was moments away.
A strong breeze swept through the corridor, sending pieces of cardboard, scraps of fabric, and dry leaves flying everywhere.
Their hair rippled like waves in the wind, and dust from the narrow corridor scattered across their bodies.
Dave looked up, staring at where the sun had been—now replaced by a blanket of gray clouds. "Huh, the weather today is really awful," he muttered.
"It's going to rain," the teenage boy said quietly.
"I know," Dave replied, watching the two walk closer to him.
"So… what are we going to do?" Zavi asked, confused, shielding his face from the dust blowing toward him.
"This is bad…" Carlz grabbed Zavi's shoulder, signaling them all to raise their hands.
Not long after, raindrops began to tap against the rooftops and surrounding buildings.
A drizzle… and the water trickled into their palms, the rhythm rising and falling in the silence.
Thunder boomed three times, and seconds later, the rain suddenly poured down violently, drenching all four of them at once.
Realizing this, they panicked and sprinted out of the narrow alley to find shelter while waiting for the rain to ease.
In front of a small drink stall, they huddled near the doorway, choosing not to enter since their clothes were soaked, not wanting to trouble the owner.
They had no choice but to wait there until the rain subsided. But unexpectedly, the shop owner stepped out, gesturing for them to come inside, offering a cup of hot tea.
They entered the shop, leaving wet footprints on the floor.
All four of them asked at once, "Is this free?"
The shopkeeper, a neatly dressed elderly man, shook his head and replied with the smile of a businessman, "No…"
"What?" they all exclaimed, shocked that an old man would swindle them like that.