Recruitment

After finishing his shift at the café, the young engineer stepped out into the dimly lit streets, exhausted. The scent of rain lingered in the air, the kind that foreshadowed an impending downpour. Instead of heading straight back to his hostel, he found himself walking toward the far end of a grass field, drawn by the silence that the city rarely allowed.

As he stood there, staring at the endless dark horizon, the sky finally gave in. Droplets fell lightly at first, but within moments, the heavens unleashed a relentless shower.

"Again...?" he muttered bitterly, already drenched from head to toe.

Shivering, he sprinted toward the nearest shelter—a lonely bus stop with a rickety wooden bench. He collapsed onto the seat, hugging his arms to preserve what little warmth he had left. His clothes clung to him, the chill seeping into his very bones. Desperate for a distraction, he pulled out his phone and pressed the power button. The screen flickered to life, and his bank balance greeted him with its usual cruelty.

"Twenty-three rupees and..." He squinted at the decimals. "Eighty paisa."

Scoffing, he locked the phone and stuffed it back into his pocket. At this rate, he'd be lucky to afford instant noodles for dinner. A deep sigh escaped him as he leaned his head back, eyes drifting shut. The distant rumbling of thunder mingled with the city's muffled noise, but something else lurked at the edge of his mind.

The news.

Earlier that day, he had overheard students murmuring about a bank robbery that had taken a bizarre turn. Not only had the thieves executed the heist flawlessly, but right before making their escape, the entire area had suffered an electrical explosion. Streetlights shattered, power lines fell, and the bank itself plunged into darkness. Some claimed it was a freak accident; others believed it was a deliberate, calculated move.

"How does something like that even happen?" he wondered, his analytical mind stirring despite the fatigue. "A short circuit? A planted device? And if it was intentional, who could time it so perfectly?"

Just as he was slipping deeper into his thoughts, a sensation jolted him awake.

A soft touch.

His heart nearly leaped out of his chest.

Snapping his eyes open, he found himself staring into the face of a woman—mature, well-dressed, and completely dry, as if the rain hadn't dared to touch her. Her brows were slightly furrowed, frustration evident in her sharp gaze as she muttered something about a meeting under her breath.

His blood ran cold.

Before he could process anything further, instinct took over. He pushed himself back so forcefully that he nearly fell off the bench, scrambling to put distance between them. His reaction seemed to amuse her more than anything. She tilted her head slightly, observing him with the same patience one might have for a young boy in his rebellious phase.

His panic only grew.

Without another thought, he turned on his heel and bolted straight into the rain.

The woman watched him go, her lips curving into an unreadable smile. "Strange kid," she mused, shaking her head before returning to her phone conversation, her frustration fading into mild amusement.

Meanwhile, the boy ran without looking back, his heart pounding louder than the raindrops against the pavement. His soaked uniform clung to his skin, the cold now unbearable, but none of that mattered.

All he could think about was how, for the second time that day, life had decided to throw him into a situation he absolutely did not understand.

The cold night air clung to his skin as he sprinted through the rain, his soaked uniform sticking uncomfortably to his body. The strange woman's gaze lingered in his mind—calm, knowing, and oddly patient, as if she had seen many reckless young men like him before. But he had no time to dwell on that. His goal was simple: get home, get dry, and forget the entire night ever happened.

The downpour showed no mercy, hammering against the empty streets as he finally reached his hostel. Shivering, he fumbled with the door handle, his numb fingers struggling to turn it. The moment he stepped inside, his body sagged with exhaustion. He peeled off his drenched clothes, wrapping himself in the nearest blanket, and collapsed onto his bed, determined to pass out.

Morning came too soon.

A sharp knock rattled his door, jolting him awake. Groggy and still half-frozen from the previous night, he hesitated before opening it.

Two men stood in the hallway. They weren't hostel staff, nor were they students. The taller of the two, clad in a dark trench coat, surveyed him with sharp, assessing eyes. The other, shorter and bulkier, had the demeanor of someone who had long since lost his patience.

"Are you Lu Ten?" the taller man asked.

The boy stiffened. "Uh… who's asking?"

The shorter man scoffed. "We don't have time for this. You were near the busa station last night, weren't you?"

His mind raced. He hadn't gone near the station—just the bus stand. But he had been thinking about it. Could they… read minds now?

"I… I was at the bus stop," he admitted hesitantly. "But I didn't do anything."

The trench coat man's gaze didn't waver. "We're not here to arrest you. We're here to recruit you."

Lu Ten blinked. "…What?"

The shorter man sighed, rubbing his temples. "Listen, kid, we need someone with your skills. Physics, math, finance—your records are impressive. We need a mind that can analyze the… irregularities happening lately."

Lu Ten narrowed his eyes. "And if I say no?"

The trench coat man smirked. "We walk away, and you go back to your café job, scraping together coins."

That hit a nerve.

Lu Ten hesitated, rubbing his arms as if trying to ward off the last traces of the cold. He had never trusted authority figures. But then, something clicked in his mind.

"…How much does it pay?"

The shorter man blinked, then barked out a laugh. "Now you're asking the real questions."

Trench coat man reached into his coat, pulling out a folded document. "Enough to make sure you don't have to check your bank balance every time you want to eat."

Lu Ten glanced between them, his mind warring between caution and temptation. He had no interest in whatever they were involved in. But money? That was an argument he couldn't ignore.

With a resigned sigh, he crossed his arms. "Fine. I'll listen. But if this turns out to be some shady government experiment, I'm out."

The trench coat man's smirk deepened. "Welcome aboard."