Picked It Up (5)

"Would you like some food?" a pale young man with cat-shaped bright blue eyes, stylishly cut white hair, and a slightly fierce expression asked while standing beside a wagon piled high with black takeout containers, water bottles, and flyers.

Looming a slight distance behind him was a gigantic black wolf with menacing yellow eyes that swept over the entire homeless encampment before focusing back on the young man wearing all-white clothing.

The young man, Cyril, was currently getting cursed out by a homeless man.

"I'll rip your guts out, you damn brat! Get out of here! Why are you trying to feed us when you know the food doesn't work? It's probably poison. You filthy church people and your fake god? Where is yer god now?! Letting us suffer like this!" Clock, a homeless man with one arm shorter than the other, matted hair, and filthy clothes screamed at the young man.

Even though he was screaming, his eyes nervously darted back and forth between the white-haired youth, who blinked before smiling brightly.

"Sir!"

"What? You wanna fight? Or are you with the military going to drag me into the devil's den with fake promises!? I'll have you know I'm battle-tested! I survived the purge night! If you try to kill me, I'll kill you first for your coins!" as Clock spoke, his matted hair seemed to grow and extend along with his nails, and he retreated toward the stained tent in the background.

As he took a step back, Cyril took a step forward, his eyes focused solely on the man's face as he spoke in a conviction-filled voice.

"Please don't misunderstand me, even though I like to wear white, I want it to be known that I'm an atheist who doesn't believe in god!"

Godd

Odd

odd

dd

d

The loud declaration echoed loudly before slowly dying out.

As Clock stared at the young man in shock, Cyril grabbed a container and water from his wagon and stuffed it into his hands, refusing to let go.

"I am serious. Although I wear white, don't mistake me for a religious fanatic! I am anti-religion. To the fullest extent and I completely don't support the government as well. Are you listening?! Nonreligious."

"Chur-"

"No church!"

"Templ-"

"No temple! No religion. Just a small business owner! Understand?!?"

Cyril shoved his face close to the homeless man's, his eyes shining like a fanatic. It seemed as if he would dive into Clock's face to convince him if he could, causing the homeless man to retreat.

"Ooh-okay."

"Good. Anyway, try eating this food; I think it will help with hunger. If it works, please come to the house located at the historical reenactment place by the well and pay me back by bringing 5kgs of unopened food, ingredients, or drinks. If you bring more than that, I'll give you another meal like this one. If you have any information about the current situation of things happening in this area, we can trade. That goes for all of you. Feel free to tell a friend about it."

Cyril glanced around at the small group of homeless people in the encampment, making eye contact with each one before placing the appropriate amount of food and extra flyers in front of the tents and then driving away to the next spot.

As he drove, he hummed slightly since he was feeling good, all things considered.

"Hypocrite. Making them exchange instead of helping for free when you're not lacking in anything and have a surplus. Even the things you give out are not yours." The gravelly voice that was becoming slowly familiar rang out as Fen kept pace beside the ATV and the wagon dragging behind it.

"That's accurate, but that's life."

Cyril didn't disagree. He could continually donate to others for free, but he didn't particularly want to.

Firstly, everything he was using to make food technically belonged to Alexei, and he had no plans of shorting his friend to benefit others, even if it would be the right thing to do.

Secondly, it was human nature for people not to appreciate what they received for free. He wasn't a saint.

What he wanted was a slightly unequal exchange where people were indebted to him, and he built a decent relationship with them. He wanted to appear friendly, but tough enough that people knew not to mess with him.

That's why he went around walking with Fen.

He was sure many people had heard the wolf howling at night and were quite afraid of him. His mere presence and appearance were a deterrent despite what abilities people gained.

Even if he weren't personally strong, they would associate the dangerous wolf with him, thinking it was under his control, and that was enough.

*****************

Once the food delivery around the perimeter of the Waystation was done, Cyril quickly picked a street and led past a poor residential area filled with subsidized housing.

To be honest, this was one of the worst areas he had seen so far.

Cars were crushed like pancakes, the white sidewalks were filled with blood marks as if people were dragged, many of the windows and doors of the houses were destroyed, and some of the house roofs had collapsed.

In the center of the road was a large, perfectly circular crater, as if a giant hammer had been smashed into it, exposing iron rods and a dark hole with filthy water and garbage running through it.

The stench of dirty sewage and death filled the air.

"Is there anyone around us?" Cyril turned to ask Fen on the off chance that the wolf would cooperate, but after glancing at him for a minute, it snarkily replied.

"35 minutes left. Hurry up."

In response, Cyril took out a tape measure from his pocket and extended it until it touched Fen's front leg.

"8ft away. Move closer."

Fen: ಠ_ಠ

Cyril: (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

"You are a very annoying person."

"I'm the youngest among nine siblings. I have lots of practice in being annoying. Move closer."

Not waiting to see if Fen listened, Cyril got down from his ATV and began knocking on doors.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Police! Does anyone need help?!"

Hearing no response, he continued banging on the doors as he walked past them.

All of the houses were eerily silent; the only sounds were his running ATV, the wind blowing, and his footsteps across the concrete pavement.

As he came to the last house on the street that had several overflowing green dumpsters stacked together and tipped over, he noticed that they covered the broken door and the smashed-in windows almost like a barricade.

It looked as if somebody had deliberately arranged it that way.

Lightly hopping over some garbage, he kicked the garbage container repeatedly while yelling.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

"Police! Anyone home?!"

"Hic-"

A tiny hiccup was heard, and Cyril began forcibly shoving against the dumpster until a small gap appeared.

Sliding through it, he continued yelling.

"Hello? This is the police! Is anyone there? Do you need help?"

"Are you really a police officer? Not a faker?" a tiny, shaking voice asked Cyril as he forced his way past the dumpster.

"Yes. I'm Officer Cyril Taylor from the local precinct. Do you need help?" Cyril easily lied as he looked around.

He couldn't tell where the voice had come from.

"…y-yes hic."

A soft sob rang out, causing him to glance up at a young child floating while curled up in a tight ball.

With brown curly hair pulled into two messy pigtails, tears running down her bloody, snotty face, and cloudy brown eyes blankly staring in his general direction, Cyril thought she couldn't be more than 10 years old.

A baby.

She was even wearing navy school uniform pants and a short-sleeved white shirt with a blue tie.

"What's your name?"

"I-I'm Jordan Johnson, but you can call me Jojo hic."

"I'm Officer Cyril."

"…Cyril hic. That's a weird name."

A child was truly a child. Even while crying, she didn't forget to roast his name.

"I get that a lot. How did you get up there, Jojo? Where are your parents? The rest of your family?"

"They-they went out, and there was a voice, and then I got magic powers, and then it felt like lots of dogs were running around with people screaming, and I had to fight, but it was a lot of them, so I floated and hid, and and and now I'm stuck and can't get down! I'm so hungry!!!!!"

A deluge of words came pouring out of Jordan's mouth as if she had been holding it in, and then she began crying loudly.

And as if to emphasize her words about being hungry, her stomach rumbled loudly.

"Okay. Jojo, let's take a deep breath, okay? In and out. I have some food and water for you, and I'll help you get down, okay? Deep breath. Deep breath."

Cyril spoke soothingly while glancing around.

The interior of the home was a mess, with everything being crushed in a circular manner. It was like a bomb had gone off, with Jordan located at the center of it.

"Jojo, I have to ask you to do something, okay? There should be a black band on your wrist. I can see it on your right wrist. If you tap it, it should pop up. Can you tell me what it says? So we can figure out how to get you down?"

"….I'm blind. I can't see, and I lost my cane." The response was whispered in a tiny voice, and Cyril was momentarily stunned.

She was looking in his direction, wasn't she? And she said she had felt lots of dogs running around and had fought. It was a contradicting story.

"You can't see at all?"

"No hic- please help me." The young child began sobbing again.

"What am I doing right now?" Cyril as he waved his hand above his head.

"It feels like…waving hello?" her little hand slowly waved above her head in a similar manner.

"Can you copy what I'm doing now?" Cyril began waving his hands like a wave, and slowly, Jordan copied it.

"How about now?"

"Feels like…hopping?" Jordan stared in his general direction, her body extending and curling up as she roughly followed along, even as she floated in the air.

.....it was weird.

"What color is my hair?"

"Uhhh uhm…"

"My eyes?"

"Uhhh uhm…"

"My clothes?"

"Uhhh uhm…"

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Uhmm, it feels like 2?"

"Ooh, good job."

"Hehe."

As she laughed, Cyril just stared at her in confusion.

She was completely wrong. Instead of holding two fingers up, he had merged his four fingers into two groups, which made it clear.

She couldn't see but had a similar ability, something like sensing objects?

He almost wished that Alexei was here to grab her with his chains so he could pull her down.

Cyril stared at the floating girl for a second before removing his bag and began digging through it. Ropes and a weight were brought out and tied together.

"Jojo, I am going to throw a rope at you. Please hold your arms out like a T so the rope will catch on you. Then wrap it around your waist like a belt so I can use it to pull you down, okay? Can you do that? Then you can eat while I take you to the police office so they can help you find your parents, okay?"

"…okay. Please don't hit me in the face."

"I won't. On three. One. Two. Three."

Lightly swinging the climbing rope with a small weight at the end, Cyril tossed it over her thin arm. As the rope snagged on her arm, Jordan eventually grabbed it when it stopped swinging.

"Good job, now wrap it around your waist. Oh, you made a knot. Good job. Is it heavy?"

"It's not heavy. I'm strong."

"Good job."

Seeing that the rope was secure, Cyril wrapped the rope around his own waist and arm.

He then began pulling with all of his strength, using his legs and bracing against the floor.

He began straining, doing his best to pull the small figure back.

Despite his best efforts…

She wasn't moving.

The physical strength that he was quite confident in…

It wasn't working.

Cyril: ಠ_ಠ