Perhaps Wilbur could stop that thing, Hope thought.
He heard a horse whinnying. Someone was riding after the Transparent Monster, keeping a steady distance—not falling behind, but not gaining on it either.
It had to be Wilbur, chasing after the Transparent Monster.
But Hope couldn't bet on Wilbur being able to stop it.
Perhaps that thing wouldn't pass the house covered in ivy, Hope thought again.
But even if it deviated from its path, how far could that really take the Transparent Monster away? And besides... the monster was full of malice toward humans outside the Whateley family.
These thoughts made Hope anxious. He realized he had to do something to ease his worry.
I have to warn them, Hope finally thought.
After hearing Wilbur's hoofbeats fade into the distance, Hope closed his eyes. Uncertainty immediately activated, and he vanished from the storage room, appearing behind the boulder he had found.
First, he took out his pocket watch.
4:11 a.m.
For many people, this was the sweetest part of the night's sleep.
But Hope knew he had to become an unwelcome guest who disturbed their dreams.
Hope hadn't made a point of memorizing what Paul's house looked like, and as it happened, he was still some distance away from it.
It was too dark for Hope to see the road, but he couldn't use Uncertainty. All he could do was jog, stumbling along and nearly falling several times.
When he reached the front door of Paul's house, he remembered that ordinary people locked their doors at this hour.
A window offered him another way in. Through a gap in the curtains, Hope caught a glimpse of the interior and immediately used Uncertainty again, teleporting inside.
Hope wanted to find Paul first and have him convince Mr. and Mrs. Corey to flee with him. As he thought this, he also realized how awkward he'd feel if nothing dangerous happened in the end. But that awkwardness lasted only a moment before he pushed it aside.
He didn't know which room was Paul's, but houses like this usually had a master bedroom and one to three smaller bedrooms.
From what Paul had said, it was easy to guess that Mr. and Mrs. Corey were a loving couple and probably shared the master bedroom. Rooms other than bedrooms were generally left unlocked.
Hope only needed to look for rooms that seemed small but had locked doors.
Unfamiliar with the layout, Hope had only taken two steps before kicking a table.
The noise startled him. Worried he might wake someone inside, Hope stopped for a moment and slowed down.
Then he realized there was no point in stopping. He slapped his cheeks to clear his head.
The Transparent Monster could arrive at any moment. He had to hurry. The best plan was obviously to find Paul first, but waking everyone in the house by force was an option too.
Once he'd thought it through, Hope stopped tiptoeing around. He felt along one wall, following it as he searched for doors.
His worry mounted, and his steps grew quicker. Even when he kicked something else, he didn't stop.
He noted the time and calculated the distance between Whateley House and Paul's home. He decided to leave himself only two minutes.
If he still hadn't found Paul's room after two minutes, he'd wake the whole family, no matter what.
The texture beneath his hand changed. Hope knew he'd found the first door.
He felt around until he found the doorknob. First, he'd check whether it was locked. If it wasn't, he'd go inside and look around. If it was, he'd check how far it was from the other doors to estimate the size of the room.
Before Hope could move, a sharp click rang out. A warm yellow light came on, and the sudden brightness stung his sensitive eyes, forcing him to squeeze them shut.
"Hands up!" ordered a burly, middle-aged man.
Hope didn't dare disobey. He raised his hands beside his ears.
"Turn around!" the man ordered again.
Hope slowly turned until he was facing away. The light wasn't all that bright; it had just come on so suddenly, and Hope had been in darkness until then. His eyes couldn't adjust.
They watered from the discomfort. He managed to open them a crack.
The light came from a ceiling lamp, and the switch was beside the middle-aged man in front of him.
The man's stats appeared in Hope's mind:
Agility: 1.01, Constitution: 1.51, Vision: 0.96, Mana: 0
The middle-aged man was about as tall as Hope, in his forties or fifties. His hair had gone somewhat gray, but its original color was still visible: the same golden blond as Paul's.
If they'd met at any other time, Hope would have warmly called him "Uncle Corey." But now Mr. Corey stood holding a gun, watching Hope warily.
Clearly, he'd mistaken Hope for a burglar who'd broken into his home.
"Hope?" Mr. Corey recognized him. Hope nodded to confirm that he was indeed Hope, but the gun didn't waver. Its muzzle remained pointed at Hope's left chest.
Mr. Corey was clearly skilled with guns. Hope didn't know much about how to hold one, but he could see that the man never took his finger off the trigger, and the gun didn't shake at all.
Hope knew he had to give the nervous man a reasonable explanation.
"I came to find Paul. I have something very important to tell him."
Mr. Corey shook his head. "You're too late. Paul already left for North Oak State. He went yesterday afternoon."
He already left? Hope was stunned. Three days later... So the day of departure counted too...
"If you don't mind, you can tell me what you wanted to say," Mr. Corey said.
Hope nodded, weighing his words to make them sound as believable as possible. "Uncle, Paul and I are best friends. He must have told you that, so you can trust me..."
"Get to the point," Mr. Corey interrupted. "If you're worried I won't believe you, this isn't going to make you any more convincing."
Hope felt miserable. His face scrunched up. How could anyone believe him if he just came out and said it?
But he still took a deep breath. "Please, you and Auntie have to leave here as soon as possible!"
Afraid Mr. Corey wouldn't believe him, Hope added, "You can take me with you and use me as a hostage..."
Mr. Corey shook his head. "Tell me why we need to leave."
"Because there's going to be... an earthquake..."
"Tell me the truth."
"There's a... monster..." That was the least believable part, Hope thought.
To Hope's surprise, after he gave this absurd explanation, the middle-aged man nodded instead. "So the stories about Old Whateley are true?"
Hope was delighted. "You..."
"I've seen one," Mr. Corey said. "I saw a monster when I was very young."
He casually propped the gun against the wall, walked over, and patted Hope on the shoulder. "Don't be nervous. I survived a monster once."
Mr. Corey opened the door beside Hope. It wasn't locked at all. A middle-aged woman was standing behind it.
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