Oxygen Supply

"What do you want to get here? We should be getting you to a safe place, away from being spotted, but you're endangering yourself," Raymond whined. "I don't even know why I'm doing this for you, I'm supposed to be at my mother's restaurant right now."

"How did you find me earlier?" Djuma asked curiously. "Even the Jyuran's friends didn't know I'm here."

Raymond let out a deep sigh, his expression sheepish. "I was in my mother's restaurant a few minutes ago when I saw you live on the TV news," Raymond replied. "You… flew right into the view of the cameras. I knew where you'd go when you landed, so I had to come get you before you're captured again. However, I didn't expect to find you on that secluded street undetected."

"You might get into trouble for accommodating an alien, do you know that?" Djuma said. "I learned your laws here are complicated. I admire your courage anyway."

With that, Djuma opened the door and exited the car, heading into the store. Raymond followed suit.

"Is that all you'd say? No 'thank you'? Or something like that?" Raymond sniffed, his tone playful. "Don't you guys say 'thank you' where you came from?"

"I've never heard those words before. What's 'thank you'?" Djuma asked, not attempting a glance. If he was pretending his lack of familiarity with the phrase, he didn't show any sign of it.

"Seriously, you're not familiar with the term?" Raymond pressed. "Allow me to educate you: it's an expression of gratitude, a means of conveying one's appreciation for a kindness or favor bestowed upon them. In this particular instance, you should be expressing your gratitude to me for rescuing you today. If I hadn't intervened, you would have been captured and subjected to experimentation in the lab, where you would have been exposed to immense suffering, with various types of knives inflicting unbearable pain upon you. So when someone says 'thank you,' it signifies that they're profoundly grateful to you for your actions." 

Djuma halted and raised a discerning eyebrow. "Great fool!? I must correct you, dear human - I am not a fool. Having lived for ninety-six years, I have accumulated a vast reservoir of wisdom and knowledge, which I believe is quite impressive," he countered.

Raymond opened his mouth in shock and surprise. "I did not imply that you were a fool," he clarified. "The correct term is 'grateful,' not 'great fool' – the two words may sound identical when spoken, but they possess vastly different meanings and spellings."

"Are they not one and the same thing?"

"Of course not!" Raymond shook his head sideways. "Although the pronunciation may be identical, the meanings and spellings are distinct. This phenomenon is known as homophones," he said. "And… wait a moment, I thought I heard something strange just now. You're ninety-six years old!? You think I'm going to believe that nonsense?"

Undeterred, Djuma turned his attention to the store attendant. "I require something that enables you to breathe where breathing would otherwise be impossible," he explained.

The attendant's eyes grew wide with confusion, and she tilted her head to one side to comprehend Djuma's words. "I'm afraid I don't understand, sir," she replied. "Could you please elaborate on your request?"

"What on earth are you talking about?" Raymond frowned.

Djuma endeavored to elucidate his request, utilizing a plethora of gestures with his hands to accentuate his words. "I'm referring to a device that would enable one to survive in an environment where there's no air," he explained.

As comprehension dawned on him, Raymond turned to the attendant. "I apologize for the confusion," he said. "He's actually looking for an oxygen supply system."

The attendant nodded graciously, pointing to the adjacent side of the store, where an array of oxygen tanks was displayed. "You'll find what you're looking for over there," she said.

Raymond and Djuma traversed the store, making their way toward the assortment of oxygen tanks. "Choose the one that suits your needs," Raymond said when they approached. "I must admit, I'm intrigued – what's the purpose of acquiring an oxygen supply system, if I might ask?"

Djuma, however, declined to respond, instead opting to scrutinize the collection of oxygen tanks, his brows furrowed in concentration as he searched for a suitable option. After a few moments, he grunted in dissatisfaction. "These are far too cumbersome," he finally said. "I require a small one that can be easily transported."

"I think I know what you're looking for, even though you're reluctant to divulge the purpose of your inquiry," Raymond responded, and then strode toward the attendant. "Excuse me, do you have portable oxygen tanks?"

The attendant nodded affirmatively and turned to a nearby shelf, merely a few inches from her position. "You'll find the portable oxygen tanks right there," she said, extending her index finger to point toward the shelf. 

Raymond and Djuma proceeded to walk in the direction indicated by the attendant, and Djuma began to scrutinize the shelf, carefully examining the various options available. After a few moments of deliberation, he finally pointed to a portable oxygen tank that met his requirements, his eyes lighting up with satisfaction.

Raymond promptly retrieved the tank and headed back to the store attendant, who was patiently waiting to assist them further. As he approached the counter, Raymond carefully set the tank down on the table, positioning it for scanning.

"He'll need a mask and a backpack to carry it," he began to say, before pausing momentarily and glancing at Djuma with a hint of curiosity. "But how would you carry it on your back with your… err… wings?" he whispered the last word.

"I'm not the one who will be carrying it; the individual who will be using it will be responsible for transporting it," Djuma responded nonchalantly, his face once again unreadable. He then turned to the attendant. "How long does the oxygen supply last?"

"The duration of the oxygen supply depends on the usage patterns. This particular model, the Oxylux 50, can last anywhere from 6 to 8 hours if the user is resting or sleeping. However, if the user is engaged in physical activity, the oxygen supply will be depleted more rapidly," the attendant answered.

Djuma pondered this information for a moment, his eyes narrowing in contemplation. As he turned to face Raymond, he was met with a quizzical gaze. 

"Who's going to be using the oxygen?" Raymond asked. But Djuma chose to ignore the question, instead turning back to the attendant and nodding frantically. "Can you please put it in a bag?" he requested urgently.

The receptionist carefully placed an oxygen mask inside a backpack and connected it to the portable oxygen tank. As she positioned the backpack on the table, Djuma reached out and placed his hand on it, closing his eyes as if in deep contemplation. The receptionist watched him with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, unsure of what he was doing, but she refrained from interrupting him.

Raymond, however, couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. He placed his hand on Djuma's shoulder, tapping him gently but urgently to snap him out of his trance-like state.

Djuma, seemingly annoyed by the interruption, brushed off Raymond's hand and turned to face him. As he opened his eyes, they glowed with an ominous red light, causing Raymond to recoil in alarm, flinching away from the unsettling sight.

As suddenly as they had appeared, the red glowing eyes returned to their normal color, and Djuma turned to leave. Raymond, still reeling from the shock of seeing Djuma's glowing eyes, called out to him in confusion. "Wait, wait, wait a moment! Aren't you going to take the oxygen tank with you?"

Djuma paused, turning back to face Raymond with an enigmatic smile. "I don't need to take it with me. It will find me whenever I need it." 

"What nonsense is that? Does it have its own life or what?" Raymond said incredulously. 

With a snap of his fingers, Djuma caused the oxygen tank to vanish from the table. As he raised his hand, the tank suddenly materialized on his palm, leaving the onlookers aghast.

"It will always find me whenever I need it," he reiterated. With a nonchalant flick of his wrist, he tossed the tank upward, and it disappeared once more into thin air.

Pandemonium erupted within the store as the patrons who had witnessed the extraordinary display of magical prowess recoiled in shock and utter bewilderment.

"What in the world just happened!?" one of the stunned onlookers exclaimed, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and astonishment.

"Did I just see it disappear?"