EVIL SYSTEM

Ben and Dante leaned against the minivan and looked at the house in the distance.

"What do you think?" Ben asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Dante glanced at the house, unfazed. "We should ask for help."

Ben frowned.

"Can't we just sleep in the minivan?"

"We could, if you hadn't thrown all my stuff out during the chase."

Ben laughed awkwardly, remembering.

But he insisted.

"I don't know..." Ben crossed his arms. "Would you help two strangers who showed up out of nowhere in the middle of the night asking for help?"

"Yes," Dante nodded with a smile and walked toward the house.

Ben rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation.

"That was a sarcastic question. No one would open their door to two strangers in the middle of the night."

"You don't know that," Dante shook his head with a smile. "You'd be surprised how many good people are willing to help."

"Haaaa!" Ben sighed and shrugged. He stayed back, watching Dante with a smile. He wanted to see him fail and understand his point.

He wanted to see Dante come back with a sad face just so he could rub it in with a satisfying "I told you so."

Ben watched as Dante knocked on the door, and after a few seconds, he was greeted by a woman.

Ben didn't know what they were talking about, but just a few seconds into the conversation, they were laughing.

Dante kept talking with the woman until he pointed at Ben and spoke a bit more with her.

Ben wanted to punch Dante's smiling face when he came back and told him that the woman had offered them a place to stay for the night and to fix Bedsi tomorrow.

He didn't say anything, but his triumphant smile said it all.

A loud and clear: "I told you so."

Ben helped move Bedsi behind the house. There, he noticed a basement locked with a large padlock, and the windows of the house seemed to have reinforced metal mesh.

Dante didn't pay attention to these details, but Ben frowned deeply.

When they entered the house, they were greeted by a family of five, very kind and affectionate.

The first thing Ben noticed when he entered the house was a smell. He couldn't quite place it, but he was sure it was familiar to him.

They were invited to eat and chatted happily.

Dante began telling many stories and anecdotes about things that had happened to him during his travels.

His stories were so interesting and funny that even Ben got caught up in them and forgot many of his worries, simply listening.

But there was something he couldn't shake off—the discomfort of a gaze fixed on his face.

Out of the corner of his eye, he discovered that the gaze belonged to an old man in a wheelchair. He seemed very old, and every time someone spoke to him, he seemed to have trouble hearing, asking them to repeat themselves in a very soft and slow voice, though it was hard to understand him.

It was obvious he was senile and didn't have many years left.

But his persistent stare was making Ben very uncomfortable.

The family consisted of a middle-aged man and woman. Both seemed older and a bit worn down by the years.

The woman was obese, and wrinkles were visible on her face, while the man was going bald.

The family also included a young man around 25 and a pretty girl close in age to Dante and Ben.

Everyone seemed happy listening to Dante's stories.

After dinner, they were invited to watch a movie with them on their TV. Dante accepted without much thought, and Ben followed, not wanting to be left behind and seen as boring.

Everyone went to the living room—everyone except the old man.

The movie seemed to be a romance, something Ben wasn't particularly fond of, but he stayed with them, watching for a good 20 minutes.

Feeling a bit thirsty, Ben left the living room and headed to the kitchen. He poured himself some water and was about to drink it when he heard something behind him.

With incredible agility and speed, he turned around, on high alert.

What he found behind him wasn't what he expected. In the shadow of the night stood the old man, staring at him with bright eyes.

In his hands, he held an axe and looked at Ben in a very strange way. He seemed excited and euphoric, opening his mouth as if to say something, but no sound came out.

At first, Ben couldn't see well in the darkness, but as the old man opened his mouth wider, Ben's eyes narrowed and dilated.

Inside the old man's mouth, there was no tongue—it seemed to have been cut off in a very unexpected way, and he only had two teeth left.

The old man raised his trembling hands and, with great excitement, offered the axe to Ben.

"Oojsbnsljejbsk!!"

Ben couldn't understand his words, but he understood his actions.

The old man seemed to want him to take the axe. Seeing himself in such a strange situation and wanting to get out of it quickly, Ben took the axe from the old man's hands and hid it behind the kitchen counter.

The old man was practically crying with happiness, opening his mouth even wider, allowing Ben to see more clearly.

Ben felt intrigued and tried to approach.

"What are you doing, Grandpa?" A sweet voice suddenly called out as the pretty girl entered the kitchen.

The old man seemed to panic and grow fearful.

"You shouldn't bother our guests."

The old man seemed reluctant to leave and struggled, but the girl wheeled him back to his room.

Everyone continued watching the movie, but the old man and the girl didn't return.

What made Ben's frown deepen even more was that the smell he had noticed when entering the house had grown stronger.

"To commemorate our meeting and new friendship, how about a toast?" The young man smiled as he brought out some glasses and a bottle of wine.

He opened the bottle in front of them and poured a little for everyone.

The young man handed Ben a glass, but he didn't take it.

"Thank you, but I don't drink," Ben replied, raising his hand in refusal.

"You don't drink?" The young man seemed surprised and joked. "Then you're someone to be careful around. You can't trust someone who doesn't drink. You must have a lot of secrets you don't want to spill unconsciously because of alcohol."

Ben frowned, annoyed. It was true that he had his secrets and didn't want anyone to know them.

But the real reason he didn't drink was much deeper than that.

"Come on, don't be a party pooper. Just a little," the father intervened with a smile. "It's just for the toast."

Their insistence only heightened Ben's alarm. He looked around and saw everyone watching and waiting for him to take his glass.

Ben wasn't immune to social pressure, so reluctantly, he took the glass from the young man's hand.

"Alright, let's toast to our happy meeting," Dante smiled and clinked glasses with everyone in the air.

When Ben saw everyone tilt their heads to drink, he took the opportunity and, with his speed eight times that of a normal human, poured his wine into a plant on the counter and pretended to drink along with them.

Everyone seemed happier and more relaxed.

They talked about everything. The conversation started with movies, then moved to entertainment and music, which excited Dante.

Finally, it turned to politics.

"The elections for a new president are coming up," the middle-aged man whispered. "And with them, turbulent times are approaching."

"Why?" Dante asked innocently.

"Don't you know about the revolutionary group that's been very active lately?" the man asked Dante.

"Yes," Dante nodded. "They seem tired of this system that rewards the strong over the weak. Their ideology is that only the most capable deserve to be in such a position of power, not just someone born with more talent for magic than others."

"Their point isn't bad," Ben interjected, having been quiet most of the night. "Do you remember the Fells City Massacre?"

Everyone's faces turned grim at the mention of the Fells City Massacre.

About 50 years ago, when the government at the time tried to pass a new law in favor of labor exploitation in Fells City, the workers and residents of the city were outraged and marched peacefully.

The result: the government ordered a massacre against the protesters.

The total death toll was over 100,000, and the number of injured couldn't be accurately counted but was said to be much higher.

"That was a one-time thing," the man argued.

"Maybe not on that scale," Ben nodded. "But the government still does whatever it wants thanks to this culture of the strong ruling."

The man was clearly annoyed and wanted to argue, but the woman intervened.

"I think it's getting late, and we should all go to bed."

"Yes, of course," Dante quickly agreed and asked the woman where they would be sleeping.

The woman guided them to their room.

As soon as they reached their room, Dante collapsed onto the bed, but Ben stayed awake.

He looked at the windows and tried to move them, but they wouldn't budge.

He had learned the hard way to distrust everything.

So he didn't sleep.

He sat on his bed, staring intently at the door of the room, his gaze cold and intense.