Allice in Mysterious Land (ON HOLD)

11: Spoiled

The windy night howls once we step out of the treehouse. My body shakes under the comfortable sweater, either by the weather or the biting anxiety.

We've been planning this the whole day. What can go wrong?

"From now on, put this on your ear." Roy reveals a small, black gem on his palm. It doesn't glimmer under the moonlight, so it can't be a pure stone. Miro and Sandra also receive theirs with an odd look. "The Office has a similar device, but mine has... minor modifications. These Onyx Agents can only communicate through me. So you can only hear me, but I can hear all of you. So when something happens—"

"The Office's version is linked to their security's Tracer screen, right? So you're like... the Tracer screen now?"

Roy runs his palm over his face, as if searching for the right explanation. "Yup." He sighs, throwing a curt smile before clambering down the stairs, barging through the restless air.

But Sandra hasn't put the topic down. Scurrying so she can match his pace, she continues, "One day, can you make this easier? And when did you steal these from The Office?" Her rising tone defeats the whistles of the wind, drowning my fear of these vengeful trees. But the rumbling sky steals Roy's answers from our ears, shooting me back with the usual paranoia.

Miro and I tread side by side, the robot in his backpack occasionally buzzing. He masks his anxiety with a neutral expression, but his quicker steps prove otherwise.

We're still bustling between the trees when it rains. Lightly at first, but growing violent within minutes. The drops cast thin mist upon the fake glasses Sandra forced me to wear, and the foggy air makes me shiver.

Why, of all nights, should it rain today?

What if the people we're meeting scorn of our soggy attires? Will we be considered disrespectful? What if the meeting—

"Allice Worke should calm down," Xin-Yo chirps from Miro's backpack, surprisingly winning against the rain despite the Polyester Absorption Panels muffling it.

"I'm calm. Stop reading my mind."

"Xin-Yo doesn't read minds."

We dart to the abandoned outskirts, taking shelter under the remaining roofs. The broken paths try to drown us in their puddles several times. A queasy smile appears on Miro's lips at the sight of his muddy sweater.

Before I get a chance to look at mine, a gate appears across the lonely street.

"Besides analyzing data, Xin-Yo's special ability is night vision. Other than that, Xin-Yo still has the mental age of a month old's. It will develop with time—"

I grunt under my breath. We're already at Nexon Neighborhood, and Xin-Yo's technical chatters aren't calming me up. The place's notorious playing-card statue makes me more fidgety; these people aren't going to betray us, right?

The neighborhood is poorly lit. In this weather, the houses look haunted.

The number six, two-storied house seems dead weren't it for the weak lamps. What an odd sight for a Highlife site. But within, there's a respectable Lowlife-turned-Highlife grandma and his twin sons—the Warners. The Highlife twin, Mr. Julian Warner, is Roy's neighbor, while his Lowlife twin is Mr. Jules Warner, my courier friend at Daily Dose.

Life can draw a strange line between a person and another.

We're still passing the lawn when the wind whips a net to my face. I pass it to Roy; it must be the same with what Mrs. Ailee mentioned.