The road to Swandani City stretched long and dark beneath the night sky. Serik sat quietly in the back seat, clutching his backpack as the car's gentle hum soothed the panic that still churned inside him.
After several minutes, he finally spoke.
"Jons… what are we going to do now?"
The old butler didn't turn his head from the road. His posture was straight, hands steady on the wheel.
"Young master," Jons began calmly, "I have already prepared everything. A place to stay. A safe environment. Food. Clothing. And arrangements for your future."
"My… future?" Serik repeated softly, surprised.
Jons smiled faintly, eyes still focused ahead.
"There is no need for you to worry. I will handle the difficult things. That is my duty."
Serik let out a slow breath, some of the tension leaving his small shoulders. For the first time since leaving the estate, the world felt just a little bit less heavy.
He leaned against the window and stared at the passing trees. His mind wandered.
Maybe I'll travel the world one day.Maybe I'll be a Hunter.Maybe I'll meet people like Grandfather's old friends.Maybe I'll see places no one has ever seen…
His eyelids grew heavier.
"…Jons?"
"Yes, young master?"
"What do you think I'll become in the future?"
Jons didn't answer immediately. A calm silence settled between them. Then, with a soft smile tugging at his lips, he spoke:
"I think you don't need to worry about that yet. You are still very young."
Serik blinked… then nodded.
"You're right, Jons."
His eyes closed.
Within moments, he drifted into sleep.
Jons checked the mirror and saw the boy curled up against the door, breathing softly. The butler's stern face softened.
Don't worry, young master…I will shape you into a man who can overcome anything.That is the least I can do for her.
Another car rumbled down the same road, keeping a quiet but steady distance.
Inside sat a man with a black mask, one hand resting lazily on a pistol. He tapped the barrel against the inside of his door, annoyed.
"I hate this," he muttered. "That stupid bitch better pay me well for this."
He rolled his eyes and leaned back.
"I hate killing children… It's disgusting. I'd rather be in a pretty woman's arms right now."
He checked the gun's safety switch, clicking it on and off.
"…But a job is a job."
His masked grin widened.
"When they think they're safe…that's when they die."
Warm light replaced darkness in Serik's dream.
Serik sat on a soft bed beside his mother, her arms around him. Her voice was gentle, melodic.
"Do you want another story, sweetheart?"
Serik nodded eagerly.
She brushed a strand of black hair behind her ear and began:
"Your grandfather, Ardan… he was many things. A traveler. A fighter. A wanderer of forgotten places."
Her voice painted the scenes in the air:
"Your grandfather Ardan once spent three months in Meteor City," she whispered."It is a place where the world dumps everything it no longer wants… broken things, forgotten things… and forgotten people."
Serik's eyes widened.
"He went there chasing a rumor — that a creature lived beneath the trash mounds, feeding on fear."
"What did he do?" Serik asked.
"He climbed the highest mound, where no one else dared go. There he met a mysterious boy who had never seen sunlight. Together, they fought a creature with a shadow so heavy it bent the ground beneath it."
"Did he win?"
His mother smiled.
"Of course he did. But victory is rarely clean. That fight left a scar on him — a long one down his side. He wore it proudly, like proof that even Hunters are sometimes afraid… and that fear can be conquered."
She continued, brushing her fingers across Serik's cheek.
"In the deep forest east of Zaban City, there was a magical beast known as the Luminark Stag. A creature of pure light. When threatened, it did not run — it simply vanished."
"Vanished?" Serik gasped.
"Yes. Into a different state of being. To find it, your grandfather had to learn to close his eyes… and 'see' with his aura instead of sight."
She laughed softly.
"He failed many times. He fell off cliffs, got lost for days, was chased by smaller beasts… but he never gave up. Finally, after weeks of searching, the stag allowed him to approach — and touched his forehead with its light."
"What did it feel like?"
"Warm," she whispered. "Like a promise. Ardan said the stag taught him something important… something he never told anyone."
"And then," she went on, "there was Whale Island. A peaceful place, mostly. But once, a gigantic sea creature began to circle their fishermen's boats — something with glowing eyes and a mouth that opened like a gate."
Serik held his breath.
"Ardan dived into the deep waters alone. Everyone thought he was mad."
"Was he?" Serik whispered.
She chuckled.
"All great Hunters are a little mad."
She softened her voice.
"Down in the depths, he found the creature wasn't attacking the fishermen… it was protecting its dying mate, trapped beneath a collapsed reef. Ardan led the fishermen in freeing it. When the mate swam away, it sang — a sound that made the whole island tremble."
Serik's eyes sparkled.
"What happened next?"
"Well…" She leaned closer. "The villagers said your grandfather was blessed by the sea that day. That's why storms always seemed to avoid him."
Serik hung on every word, eyes wide, heart racing.
"Mama…" he whispered. "Do you think I can be like Grandpa one day?"
His mother chuckled, tickling his sides until he giggled uncontrollably.
"Of course you can," she said warmly. "You're the cutest little adventurer in the world."
They rolled across the bed together, laughing—
—but then her laughter broke into a rough, painful cough.
Serik froze.
"…Mother?"
The cough grew louder—
—and just as the fear in the dream began to swallow him, everything blurred and dissolved.
"Young master."
A gentle voice pulled him back into reality.
"Young master, we have arrived."
Serik opened his eyes slowly. He had fallen sideways against the door. Jons had parked the car on a quiet street lined with small houses and dim warm lights.
Serik rubbed his eyes and sat up.
Jons stepped out and pointed toward a small house at the end of the lane. It was humble—wooden, two rooms, a small garden—but peaceful. A world away from the suffocating Veylor estate.
"This was my father's home," Jons said, voice softer than usual. "It is modest, but safe. From now on, we will stay here."
Serik stepped out of the car, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed Jons' hand.
"Let's go," he said quietly.
Jons nodded.
"Of course, young master."
They walked toward the house together.
Not far away, the masked man parked his car and turned off the headlights. He cracked his neck and loaded his pistol with practiced ease.
A cruel grin spread beneath the mask.
"Like killing a baby for candy…" he whispered."Easy money."
He stepped out of his car and moved silently toward the darkness.