Just before they stepped inside, Andok’s voice echoed in their earpieces.

  “As we discussed earlier, the moment you cross the line and enter the village, communication will be cut. Powerful signal jammers are installed throughout the area. Act carefully and make no mistakes. We won’t be able to help you. You have one week to find and capture the leader. Good luck. We’ll be waiting for contact.”

  The transmission ended.

  The four of them entered a building that looked like a registration office. The guards pointed toward a narrow corridor lined with several doors.

  “One at a time,” a guard said shortly. “It’s an entrance interview.”

  Phobos was called first.

  He stepped into a small room. The setting was simple: cabinets, drawers, a desk, and a few chairs. Two employees were sitting behind the desk.

  The man in a black suit was bald, but instead of hair, dozens of gray pointed cones protruded from his scalp. His face was rough, and his ears, nose, and lips were covered in piercings.

  Next to him sat a girl who was his complete opposite. Long dark hair, neat facial features, a white blouse, and a black skirt.

  “Good afternoon. Please, have a seat,” they said, gesturing to the chair across from them.

  Phobos sat down.

  “My name is Matteo, and this is my colleague Lisa. Please, address us by our names. What is your name?” the man asked.

  Phobos clicked his tongue.

  “Lee John Pitts…”

  ______

  A few hours earlier.

  Andok sat with them at the table, finishing the briefing.

  “And the last thing I’m giving you,” he said, nodding to one of the staff members.

  Each of them received a folder of documents and several printed sheets.

  “What are we supposed to do with this?” Number 1991 asked curiously.

  “To enter the village, you must pass an interview. They need to know who you are and why you’re here. Somehow, they have access to data on all outsiders from the government server. They will definitely check your background.”

  “Seriously? They hacked your server, and you’re talking about it so calmly?” Phobos raised an eyebrow.

  “‘Hacked’ is too strong a word. Most of the information is publicly accessible anyway. But that’s not the point. The important thing is to study your new identities. We created them to cover you as much as possible. You must know everything by heart.”

  Namkhai flipped through the papers and frowned.

  “Jake Joshua MacLeod… That’s me?” He looked up. “That’s not even a monk’s name.”

  “Only humans can officially register as monks, Namkhai. Stop being childish,” Andok said, stumbling slightly before smirking. “Honestly, we were lucky. And unlucky at the same time.”

  All four of them looked up from their documents.

  “What do you mean?” Phobos asked.

  “You don’t exist in any system. Not in a single database. When we captured you, there was no information about you. And there’s still almost none.”

  Namkhai, Delilah, Phobos, and 1991 exchanged glances.

  “To be honest, that really irritates me,” Andok continued. “Don’t think I forgot about it. Or that I don’t care. There just hasn’t been time to investigate. But I assure you, when I have a free moment, I’ll personally look into it. And when that happens, your ‘monk’ story won’t save you.”

  Namkhai let out a tired sigh.

  “As you say. I’m already tired of proving that I’m a monk.”

  ______

  Back to Phobos.

  “Lee John Pitts…” Matteo repeated, entering the data into the computer. “Could you provide identification? It will speed up the process.”

  “Yes.”

  Phobos took out the fake ID issued by Andok and handed it over. Matteo examined the document carefully and continued typing.

  “Found you. So, you’re thirty-five years old. Born in Sector Eleven, but moved with your family to Sector Thirteen at the age of five. You worked for several years in the industrial zone at chemical facilities.” He looked up. “So you understand chemistry?”

  “I’ve had experience.”

  “And why do you carry a blade?” Lisa interjected. “It’s hardly necessary for chemical plant work. Do you know how to use it?”

  “No. It belonged to my father. A family relic, you could say. It used to hang above the wardrobe at home. I took it for self-defense… and as a memory of my family.”

  “And what about your parents?” she continued.

  “It says here they were imprisoned after some kind of ‘incident,’” Matteo added. “What does that mean?”

  Phobos answered calmly.

  “You know how it goes. Outsiders are often accused without much investigation. My parents were no exception. They were fired and sent to prison. I was lucky, they didn’t drag me in. But after that, I realized I don’t want to live among humans anymore. I want freedom. Like in your village.”

  “Do you have enough funds to live here for a while? Until you settle in and find work?” Lisa asked.

  Phobos smirked and pulled out a stack of cash provided by the government.

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  “Of course.”

  The employees exchanged glances and nodded.

  “According to your file, everything seems to be in order. Your work experience will be useful to us. However, I’m afraid you’ll have to leave the katana. We do not allow new residents to carry weapons. You may retrieve it in six months or when you leave the village.”

  “Understood,” Phobos replied shortly and left the room.

  Next, Delilah entered.

  The door creaked softly as a slender figure in dark clothing stepped inside.

  “Good afternoon. Please, come in and have a seat,” Matteo said gently, pointing to the chair across the desk.

  Delilah sat carefully on the edge of the seat. She removed her black medical mask and hung it at her side, keeping her gaze lowered.

  “Please, call me Matteo, and my colleague is Lisa,” he continued warmly. “May we know your name?”

  Delilah slowly shook her head and touched her throat with her fingers, indicating that she could not speak.

  For a moment, an awkward silence filled the room. Lisa and Matteo exchanged glances.

  “You’re mute?” he asked more cautiously. “That’s alright. May I see your ID, then?”

  She silently handed over the document. Matteo took it, his eyes lingering briefly on her gloves.

  “Let’s see… Ernest Lillian Ellis, twenty-three years old…” He scanned the lines. “You worked in waste disposal… Hmm. For someone of your build, that sounds rather… harsh. Wasn’t it difficult?”

  Delilah was about to shake her head, but a sudden thought crossed her mind. Instead, she hesitantly nodded.

  Matteo frowned.

  “So you had no choice?”

  She nodded again, a little quicker this time.

  “I see… You look very fragile,” he murmured. “But your ability… is quite dangerous. You’re listed in the red category.”

  Lisa, who had been silently watching the screen, raised an eyebrow.

  “So… anyone you touch dies in agony? That’s extremely serious.”

  “It really is dangerous,” Lisa said quietly. “Should we even allow her into the city?”

  Matteo tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the desk.

  “There isn’t a single confirmed case of murder in her file. She hasn’t taken anyone’s life using her ability.” He smiled faintly. “And… look at her. Does this small creature truly seem like a threat?”

  Lisa looked at Delilah.

  Delilah gave a modest smile, lowering her lashes.

  “Khm…” Lisa exhaled, unable to find the right words.

  “Besides, she’s fully protected - gloves, covered clothing. She’s aware of her power and controls herself. Isn’t that exactly why our village exists?” Matteo continued. “Her documents show she became an outcast because of her ability. We’re obligated to give her a chance. The village will help her adapt.”

  Lisa sighed heavily.

  “We have worse specimens living here…” she admitted. “Fine. Let her pass.”

  Delilah nodded gratefully and stood up. Her steps were quiet again, almost inaudible, as she left the room.

  At that very moment, the next candidate entered the room - #1991.

  He stepped inside and immediately scanned the room with a sharp. Thin, wearing a white jacket, with wavy shoulder-length hair. Yet in his tired eyes there was something vividly curious.

  Matteo held his gaze a little longer than usual.

  “Welcome. Please, have a seat,” he said gently, gesturing toward the chair. “My name is Matteo, and this is my colleague, Lisa.”

  #1991 sat down silently.

  “So, how should we address you?”

  “My name is Jean Paul Gaultier,” he replied without hesitation.

  Lisa’s eyebrow twitched slightly, but she said nothing.

  “I see. May I have your identification?”

  “Identification?” He blinked. “What’s that, some kind of document?”

  A pause filled the room.

  “Yes… you don’t carry it with you?” Matteo asked carefully.

  “Well, I’ve got a bunch of papers. Take a look, maybe there’s something in there you need.”

  He pulled out a crumpled stack of documents and handed them over the desk.

  Matteo began sorting through the pages. Paper rustled one after another until his fingers suddenly stopped. Among the sheets was a certificate he stared at a second longer than the rest.

  His eyebrows rose slightly.

  “Look…” he said quietly, tilting the page toward Lisa.

  She lowered her gaze.

  “Hm…” Her expression shifted with understanding. “That explains a lot… That’s why they came as a group.”

  Matteo carefully placed the certificate back into the stack and looked at #1991.

  “What do you do, Jean?”

  And at that moment, his confidence vanished.

  Inside, #1991 tightened.

  “Damn… I didn’t memorize a single thing Andok gave me… Crap…" -He glanced at Matteo’s face. Calm. Too calm. "He knows something. Definitely suspicious. I need to improvise… focus… make something up…"

  “Uh… I…”

  Lisa and Matteo watched him closely without interrupting.

  #1991 suddenly straightened. His face became serious.

  “I was a bounty hunter.”

  “Excuse me?” they asked almost in unison.

  “I survived however I could. When I got older, I started hunting criminals. That’s how I fed myself. I had a family - three sisters… no, five sisters… and four brothers. Hungry mouths, you know? I had to work.”

  He lowered his gaze, then looked up again, and now a tragic spark flickered in his eyes.

  “Then there was a fire. It was people, no, beasts who hate outsiders. They burned everything...... I lost them all. I had nowhere else to go, so I came here.”

  Silence settled over the office.

  “I… see…” Matteo cleared his throat lightly. “And the two before you… are they your friends?”

  “Companions. I travel with them. One of them… keeps an eye on me.”

  Matteo and Lisa exchanged a look.

  “Alright…” he said slowly. “You may proceed.”

  “Seriously?” #1991 asked, genuinely surprised.

  He stood, headed toward the door, and just before leaving, allowed himself a smirk.

  Heh. I totally fooled them. Who needs Andok’s scripts when I can handle it myself?

  The door closed. Silence returned.

  Matteo carefully pulled that same certificate from the stack and placed it into a desk drawer. The words on it were clear:

  “Exceptionally gifted. Congenital cognitive deficiency. Requires supervision.”

  Andok had thought of everything. He knew #1991 would inevitably say too much and had prepared an explanation in advance.

  Lisa sighed.

  “It’s good he has people who take care of him…”

  Matteo nodded, closing the drawer.

  “Poor kid…” he said quietly.

  The door opened wider than usual. Namkhai appeared in the doorway.

  Matteo and Lisa instinctively straightened. A true giant stood before them, nearly two meters tall, broad shoulders, massive neck, shaved head. Yet he wore a simple clean robe and house slippers, which made the image even stranger.

  “H-hello…” Matteo broke the silence. “My name is Matteo, and this is my partner Lisa. Please, have a seat.”

  “Good day,” Namkhai replied briefly and carefully lowered himself into the chair, which creaked under his weight. “My name is… uh… Jake Joshua MacLeod.”

  Lisa narrowed her eyes slightly.

  “Jake, may we see your identification?”

  “Yes, here.”

  He pulled the document from the folds of his robe and handed it over.

  “T-thank you…” Matteo accepted it, noticing from the corner of his eye that Lisa was studying their guest closely.

  He scanned the data.

  “Alright… Jake. Twenty-four years old. From Sector Thirteen, mountainous outskirts…” Matteo nodded. “So, a rural worker? You deal with livestock, grain crops, plants?”

  “Yes,” Namkhai answered calmly. “You could say I’m a kind of villager. I’ve spent my life training, working, and studying.”

  “That sounds respectable,” Matteo said approvingly.

  Lisa crossed her arms.

  “Then why do you want to join us?”

  Namkhai paused for a second.

  “Why do I want to come to you?”

  “What?” Matteo and Lisa exchanged looks and gave a faint smile. “That’s… our question. Perhaps you misunderstood.”

  “No, I understood,” he replied evenly. “I mean, why do outsiders come here?”

  Matteo relaxed slightly and answered in his usual tone.

  “Oppression is increasing in all sectors. People outside the walls hate outsiders. Many lose their homes, their jobs… sometimes even their families. Those who need freedom and protection come to us.”

  Namkhai scratched the back of his head thoughtfully.

  “Is it really that bad in the cities?”

  “Worse than you think,” Lisa said quietly. “They call this year the hardest yet. And they say the next one will be even worse.”

  A heavy silence filled the room.

  “I see…” Namkhai hesitated, then asked, “I don’t know if this is appropriate… but if you protect outsiders, perhaps you’ve heard of someone named Eugene Turino?”

  Matteo frowned.

  “Eugene Turino? I’ve never heard that name. Does he live in our village? Are you looking to meet him?”

  “No. He’s dead,” Namkhai said evenly.

  Lisa lowered her gaze.

  “Our condolences… Was he close to you?”

  “Not at all,” Namkhai replied calmly. “I only learned his name after he died. I just wanted to clarify something.”

  Matteo glanced at his partner.

  “We have people in the village who specialize in gathering and delivering information. If you need to find something out, they can help.”

  “I see… Then I’ll be going.”

  He stood up. The chair seemed to exhale in relief under the sudden absence of his weight.

  “Wait…” Lisa started to add something, but Matteo gently stopped her with a gesture.

  “Let him go. His file is clean. I see no reason to detain him.”

  Namkhai nodded and left the room.

  In the corridor, Phobos, Delilah, and 1991 were already waiting, sitting on the couches. Their gazes lifted simultaneously when they saw him.

  Only one checkpoint remained.