He lifted his hand to wipe the fresh blood from his face, like a lone wolf that had just finished a fight, even his gaze held a bloodthirsty chill.

"Where is Hannah?"

He repeated this sentence over and over, like a robot programmed to say only this.

Some were so terrified by James’s ghastly situation that they wet themselves and fainted.

"We... we really don’t know."

The man’s voice trembled, and he couldn’t help but shake in his hands and feet.

They had boldly entered the stone house only after watching Hannah disappear. If they knew where she was, how could they dare touch her things?

Seventeen lost patience, reached out, and grabbed the man who had talked the most. "Tell me everything you know."

Confronted with those eyes, the man nearly fainted from fright, but he still confessed.

What they knew most about was a youth named Archer who had disappeared. Hannah went looking for him, headed north, and never returned.

By now, it had been almost a month.

Right after he uttered the last word, Seventeen dealt with the seven men, including James.

Bodies barely void of life and still warm were already being watched.

As soon as Seventeen walked away, people rushed up to scavenge.

Like beasts on the savannah, heads lowered, mouths agape, seeing only food before them.

Utterly inhumane.

*

The city of Brule was hit by heavy rain, as if the sky had been punctured, a massive hole left where the rain refused to stop.

North side.

Desolate ruins everywhere, debris and dust littered the ground.

With the rain pouring down, a misty fog arose from the ground, making the path even more difficult to traverse.

The northern area wasn’t too large, there was a small forest where mutant beasts lurked, a portion of collapsed buildings, and the rest covered with broken stones.

It was easy for someone to lose their footing upon them.

Seventeen searched every nook and cranny in the pouring rain.

It wasn’t until dusk was approaching that he finally caught a glimpse of Hannah’s figure in a very narrow hole.

The hole was a small corner formed by the collapse of a building, only someone petite could squeeze through, so Seventeen could only stand at the entrance, looking in as the rain drenched him.

"Is that you, Hannah?"

He awkwardly moderated his tone, his gaze fixated on a piece of red fabric inside.

Seventeen recognized it as Hannah’s cloak.

"Hannah, is it really you?" he called again.

The heavy rain scattered one’s voice; he had to speak louder.

The youth’s voice was slightly hoarse, as if he had just gone through puberty, not gentle, and even when trying to speak softly, it sounded like he was on the verge of an argument.

It wasn’t Archer.

Hannah sat with her head bowed, knees hugged to her chest, curled up into herself.

She was daydreaming, her eyes vacant, as if she’d shut herself off into another little world.

Seventeen got up, trying to crawl into the hole.

But just as he stretched one foot in, a soft sound came from inside.

It was Hannah.

She recoiled further into the space like a wary cat.

A poor, abandoned stray cat.

Seventeen stopped, froze in his attempted movement, and slowly stood back in his original spot, letting the rain hammer down on him. "I’ll just stand here, don’t be afraid."

The Hannah of the past would never have been afraid.

Seventeen was not a man of many words, during his time in the east, he faced mostly the roars of beasts, and the crazed shouts and curses of people.

So now, he didn’t know how to persuade Hannah to come out.

He had a vague idea why.