Chapter 67

"Very well then. No more messing around." Ethan said, driving away the silence that took over.

***

"Come in" the built man said as he ushered the Old Man and his driver into his hut.

Inside the man's hut, the dim light filtering through gaps in the haphazardly arranged walls creates a warm, flickering ambiance.

The walls, constructed from mismatched pieces of corrugated metal and worn wooden planks, are adorned with colorful scraps of fabric, giving the space a patchwork quilt-like appearance.

Each piece tells a silent story of resilience and resourcefulness that had since their little civilization through thick and thin on the rough streets of life.

In one corner, a small, handmade altar stands, crafted from an old wooden crate. Upon it rest simple offerings: a few fresh flowers, a small bowl of rice, and a flickering candle, all tokens of reverence to the spirits and ancestors.

Above the altar, a faded photograph of a revered elder watches over the room, their wise eyes a silent