Chapter 7

~ Gaining Information ~

A subtle tremor shook the street as every other part of Alan’s house came crashing down. The quake startled him a bit, but he quickly found his bearing and turned to trace the source of the sudden impact.

His house was nothing more than a heap of rubble at that moment. He simply sighed and turned to continue his stroll, ‘I really hope you’re right about that damage insurance.’

[They should arrive soon.]

He took a sharp detour and approached a small restaurant, puffs of steam escaping its chimneys. He didn’t know why, but he felt familiar with the restaurant, as though he had been here a couple of times.

‘Maybe the former me used to come here,’ he surmised internally, pushing the metal door open.

He walked in to see some men gathered behind the counter, laughing at intervals. There was a young man in the middle, his hands hovering over the counter. Beneath his waving palms was a somewhat holographic construct of a dungeon. In that small construct, there was a tiny lad grasping a sword, slashing aimlessly at the air as he struggled to fend off just one goblin.

Alan didn’t even really pay any attention to it at first. He moved closer to the counter and cleared his throat, “Uh, excuse me. I’d like to place an order?”

It wasn’t until then that he was able to take a closer look at the tiny guy fighting the goblin. He narrowed his eyes. That guy sure did look like him.

“Hey, look who it is!” one of the men said with a hoarse voice. He pointed at the little moving constructs on the counter, “We were just talking about you. Kurt was showing us how you managed to survive yet another raid yesterday.”

‘Everyone knows me, and they just keep mocking me for being so weak. I’m not really sure if this is the kind of fame I want,’ Alan complained internally while sizing up the man controlling the constructs. ‘Kurt, huh? He was with me in yesterday’s raid. Wait... My memories are coming back. That’s nice.’

He watched what happened with the constructs for a few seconds before taking his eyes away. He couldn’t even cut through the goblin’s skin. Liam was the one who saved him.

“And then, Light, as usual, came to heal his wounds... From a freaking goblin!” Kurt explained while demonstrating, and everyone burst into another round of laughter.

Alan just ignored the taunts, “Please, who’s going to take my order?”

“That’d be me, lad. The usual?” said a hefty man that walked out of the kitchen. He shuffled through the men behind the counter, his long brown beards dangling like a pendulum.

“Yeah, sure,” Alan nodded without knowing what the usual was.

“A’ight. I’ll be back in a few,” the man said and walked back into the kitchen.

Alan took a seat by the counter and delved into his thoughts, ‘System, you there?’

[I’m always here.]

‘Yeah, right,’ Alan replied with much sarcasm, recalling how the System would go silent at crucial times. ‘Anyway, I need information.’

[Information on what?]

‘Everything? Isn’t there a way for me to have all my memories of this place back? I don’t like looking aloof every time.’

[I can, but the process has to be gradual. Such an influx of information would burden your mind and probably kill you.]

Alan creased his brows, ‘But why? They are the memories of this body. They’ve always been there, just locked up somewhere.’

[True. But you’ve been reborn with a new mind and soul. Or rather, your body, soul, and spirit have been intertwined with that of this body, slowly becoming one. It isn’t until you are fully amalgamated, will everything come back to you.]

‘How long will that take?’

[It’s very dependent on you. The more you interact with the realm, the quicker the assimilation process.]

‘Hmm... That seems doable.’

The cook showed up with a small paper bag and sled it across the counter. Alan stopped it from falling over and passed the man his 1 Surn note.

The cook shook his head, “Leave it. It’s on the house. You need that to treat your wounds from yesterday and take care of your sister.”

A small smile formed on Alan’s lips. He carried the paper bag and stood up, “Thank you, Mr. Humphrey.”

He didn’t realise what he had said until he was a few houses down the street. His eyes dilated, ‘Mr. Humphrey? Why did I call him that?’

He began to recall the horrible work conditions that his boss on earth had put him through. The latter’s name was also Mr. Humphrey.

[That’s the cook’s name.]

‘Creepy,’ Alan shuddered. He continued walking down, watching for any shade or a secluded place where he could stay and eat. His house was completely ruined, and he couldn’t stay at the restaurant. He feared he would snap at the incessant mockery from those men, and they’d end up beating him to a pulp.

He sighed, ‘So where were we? Yes. While I wait for my memories to gradually come back, I need some basic information. Aside from being a miserable Hunter, who is Alan Hermolith?’

[Alan Hermolith is the first son of Ian and Elizabeth Hermolith. His parents died during a raid. They were trapped in a gateway, the reason is still unknown.]

‘Wait... My parents were Hunters?’ he creased his brows, diverting into an alley.

[Yes. They were one of the strongest, being among the first people to gain abilities from the emergence of the first gateway, twenty years ago. Elizabeth was eight months pregnant at the time. By the time of their death, they were both Myriad 2 Hunters.]

‘Damn...’ it came as a shock to Alan, cajoling him to gaze at his hands. ‘How did such a fine couple of that much power and prestige end up giving birth to a weakling like me?’

[In most cases, becoming a Hunter isn’t hereditary. Your sister, Maya Hermolith, doesn’t possess the needed amount of mana to become a Hunter.]

Alan’s eyes lit up, ‘Her name is Maya here too? That’s ... Comforting. Though she seems older.”

[Maya is 17.]

He simply nodded at the homeless man seated in the alley. He put his back against a wall and sled down, sitting beside the homeless man.

Other than being homeless, the old man looked neat and healthy.

Alan unfurled the paper bag and took out its contents. It contained a wrap of burrito and a bottle of milkshake.

Alan divided the burrito into two equal halves, stretching one half to the homeless man, “Want some?”