Careless Petty Thief

Maybe Wilbur can stop that thing, Hope thought.

He heard the neighing of a horse, someone riding at a steady pace, chasing after the Transparent Monster without falling behind, but also without closing the distance.

That must be Wilbur, going after the Transparent Monster.

But he didn't dare bet that Wilbur could definitely stop it.

Maybe that thing won't pass by that house covered in ivy, Hope thought again.

But even if it deviated from that direction, how far could it really steer the Transparent Monster away, and besides... that monster was filled with malice toward humans outside the Whateley family.

These thoughts made Hope tense. He realized he had to do something to ease his anxiety.

I have to go warn them, Hope finally decided.

Once he heard Wilbur's hoofbeats fade into the distance, Hope closed his eyes, and Uncertainty activated immediately. His figure vanished from the storage room and reappeared behind the boulder he had found.

He first picked up the small pocket watch.

4:11 AM.

For most people, this was the time of deepest sleep.

And Hope knew he was about to become an unwelcome guest disturbing that sleep.

Hope hadn't deliberately memorized the layout of Paul's house, but as luck would have it, he was still some distance from it.

It was too dark for Hope to see the road clearly, but he couldn't use Uncertainty. He could only jog over, stumbling and nearly falling several times along the way.

When he reached Paul's front door, he only then remembered that normal families locked their doors at this hour.

A window offered him another path. Through a gap where the curtains weren't fully drawn, Hope saw the inside of the house and immediately used Uncertainty again to teleport inside.

Hope wanted to find Paul first, to get Paul to convince Mr. and Mrs. Corey to flee with him—as he thought this, he also realized that if no danger actually came, he'd be incredibly embarrassed. But that embarrassment lasted only a moment before he cast it aside.

He didn't know which room was Paul's, but generally, in a house like this, there would be one master bedroom and one to three secondary bedrooms.

From Paul's words, it wasn't hard to guess that Mr. and Mrs. Corey were a loving couple, likely sharing the master bedroom. Rooms other than the bedrooms usually weren't locked.

Hope just needed to find rooms that looked small but were locked.

Because he wasn't familiar with the interior layout, Hope kicked a table just two steps in.

The noise caused some disturbance. Hope worried about waking the people inside, so he paused for a moment and slowed his movements.

Then he realized that stopping was pointless. He slapped his face to sober himself up:

The Transparent Monster could arrive anytime. He had to hurry. The best plan was still to find Paul first, but forcibly waking everyone up wasn't off the table.

Once he made up his mind, Hope stopped hesitating. He felt along one wall, walking beside it, searching for doors.

His anxiety grew heavier with each step, and his pace quickened. Even if he kicked something again, he didn't stop.

He noted the current time and calculated the distance from Whateley House to Paul's house in his mind. He decided to give himself only two minutes.

If he still hadn't found Paul's room after two minutes, he would wake the Corey family without restraint.

A different texture from the wall met his hand. Hope knew he had found the first door.

He felt along the door and quickly found the handle. He wanted to test if it was locked—if not, he'd go in and check; if locked, he'd first gauge its distance from other doors to judge the room's size.

But before Hope could act, a sudden click sounded, and a warm yellow light flared. Hope's sensitive pupils were shocked, forcing his eyes shut.

"Hands up!" a thick, middle-aged man's voice rang out.

Hope didn't dare disobey. He raised his hands to his ears.

"Turn around!" the middle-aged man continued to command.

Hope slowly turned his body, facing backward. The light wasn't actually that strong, but it was too sudden. Having been in darkness until now, he couldn't adjust.

Tears streamed from the discomfort as he forced his eyes open a crack.

The sudden light came from the electric lamp hanging from the ceiling, and its switch was right next to the middle-aged man.

The man's numbers appeared in Hope's mind:

Agility: 1.01, Physique: 1.51, Vision: 0.96, Mana: 0

The middle-aged man was about the same height as Hope, in his forties or fifties, with graying hair that still showed traces of its original color—the same blond as Paul's.

If they had met under different circumstances, Hope would have warmly called him "Uncle Corey." But now, Mr. Corey held a rifle, staring at Hope with wary vigilance.

Clearly, Hope had been mistaken for a burglar breaking into the house.

"Hope?" Mr. Corey recognized him. Hope nodded to confirm his identity, but the gun didn't waver an inch, its muzzle always aimed at Hope's left chest.

Mr. Corey was clearly skilled with firearms. Hope didn't know the stance, but he could see that one finger never left the trigger, and the muzzle didn't tremble at all.

Hope knew he had to give this tense man a reasonable explanation:

"I'm looking for 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 yesterday afternoon."

Already gone? Hope was stunned. Three days later... so the day itself counted too...

"If you don't mind, you can tell me whatever it is first," Mr. Corey said.

Hope nodded, weighing his words carefully in his mind to make them as believable as possible. "Uncle, Paul and I are best friends—he should have mentioned that to you, so you can trust me..."

"Get to the point." Mr. Corey cut him off. "If you're afraid I won't believe what you have to say, dragging it out won't make you any more credible."

Hope's heart ached, his face scrunching up. How could anyone possibly believe something like this if he just blurted it out?

Still, he took a deep breath. "Please take Auntie and leave here as soon as possible!"

Afraid Mr. Corey wouldn't believe him, he added, "You can take me with you, 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 himself.

To his surprise, after he finished his absurd explanation, the middle-aged man in front of him nodded instead. "So, the rumors about Old Whateley are true, then?"

Hope's eyes lit up. "You..."

"I've seen it," Mr. Corey said. "I've seen a monster, when I was very young."

He casually leaned his gun against the wall, walked over, and patted Hope on the shoulder. "Don't be nervous. I'm someone who survived an encounter with a monster."

Mr. Corey pulled open the door beside Hope—it wasn't locked—and a middle-aged woman stood behind it.