Alviar’s Dad

"So in short, anyone who wins this game will get to meet the king?"

"Exactly."

No wonder why a lot are dying to join. The cash price is large with a whopping amount of 5000 demi. But I don't think this man is in it for the money. I highly doubt that. He's looking forward to meeting the king for sure. As for his reason. That I don't know.

"This competition only happens once every two years that's why many are anticipating it. Especially those who wished to gain the favor of the king. Sabotage and backstabbing are likely to happen. No. Someone will definitely do that so be cautious," he warned.

We're in his apartment right now. He's explaining the game to me with the help of the illustration he made on the parchment. And while in the midst of it, the front door swung open. A man in a police uniform then strode going inside.

"Father. You didn't come home again last night." Alviar told the man.

But wait! Father? Now that he mentioned it. I noticed that they're oddly identical. They're basically a carbon copy of each other. From their thick brows, tired-looking eyes, and defined jawline. Heck! Even their stature. Only that his father is older and more brooding. Well, that much is obvious.

Realizing that I'd been staring at him for quite a while already comparing him to Alviar, I immediately sprang to my feet. Goodness! That must have been rude. "Good day to you, sir. I'm Jack Miller." I told him as I bowed slightly.

"Good day, young lad. You can call me Jose. And please, don't mind me." he said as he took off his trench coat.

"Will you be okay? You've been working yourself to death these days, you know?" Alviar told his dad.

"Don't worry about me. You'll compete tomorrow, right? Worry about that instead. Besides, with all the people going missing, how can I possibly take a rest? Their families are flooding the station the whole day and we don't even got a clue about those poor soul's whereabouts. Ha! What's happening to Sratol." Alviar's father, or rather, Jose, continued to complain even as he disappeared into one of the rooms. Probably the bedroom.

"Ahem! Mr. Jack, please don't mind my old man. He's kinda stressed with his job. Let's continue, shall we?" And with that, he continued explaining the rules of the game to me.

But father, huh. Now that I think about it. I have no memories of my parents. I mean, the original Jack Miller's parents. And I honestly find that odd. Because I definitely know Kai who's in Berkton now but not his parents.

"Are you listening, Mr. Jack?"

"I am. Please continue."

He began explaining again. But somehow, I couldn't get myself to focus on what he was saying. My mind keeps drifting towards what might happen tonight. Mr. Vlad said I should become a peculiar but I don't really know the reason not that I don't want to. I wish they'd stop keeping me in the dark. It sucks, you know?

With his thorough explanation, I finally got the gist about tomorrow's event. Though clearly, since I was so caught up in my own world, I didn't get all of it. Like why is it called "The Snitch". Apparently, it will be a labyrinth. You and your partner will start from different entrances. To win, both of you should exit together. There will be an obstacle of some sort that if you fail, you cannot take that path. In short, there will be a gatekeeper at every turn. And you can only pass through if you got over the gatekeeper's test. Pretty simple I would say.

"I'll meet you at your agency tomorrow at seven in the morning," he told me when I was about to leave.

"Sure. See you tomorrow." And with that, I left. I wish to have a quick nap as soon as I got to the apartment. I have a feeling that tonight is gonna be a sleepless night. However, I went in the opposite direction to the alley we pass through coming here. That place was just so isolated. And with all the people going missing, places like that is the last thing I'd like to be at.

On my way, I pass through a chain factory. It was rather lively with all the people bustling around, the sound of metal being hammered, and the huff and puff of smoke coming from the towering furnaces.

But as I was watching them, I noticed that majority of the workers were old women and children. There were some men too but the ratio was just way too off. Looking at their faces, it's evident that they've been working nonstop for hours already. And there's even one grandma stopping for a while only to massage her lower backside.

There was a notice board by the side of the gate. It says, "1 demi per hour. Enquire inside for more information."

Wait! I'm confused. I thought that the minimum wage is 70 demi per week. And if it's 1 demi an hour, then that would only mean they will have to work ten hours a day of hard labor to make ends meet.

Comparing it to my job, I can't help but be grateful. Though I still don't understand the basis for one to be hired honestly.

But come to think about it. Kai didn't earn much in his former job as an educator either yet he was able to send me to the university, pay the rent, pay our health insurance, and bring food to the table. I'm pretty certain that he's doing some sidelines as well. I can't help but admire him.

I must have failed to notice it. But there's a vast contrast between the working class and the people I've interacted with so far. They sure don't have it easy.