Home sweet home.

  The moment Jin’s boot hit the asphalt, nostalgia hit him like a truck. Then it vanished, swallowed by the stench of rust and decay. The once jovial neighbourhood was now silent and empty.

  Kids no longer ran around in parks. Teenagers no longer loitered at the convenience store or even at cafés, talking to each other without a care. Nor were there housewives grouped outside the grocery store, waving at Jin whenever he passed by on the way to his apartment.

  It was devoid of life. The air wasn’t clean anymore. It was thick with neglect, suffocating as if the weight of abandonment clung to one’s lungs and refused to leave.

  Yet, this was his home. Or what was left of it. One that he yearned to return to all these times.

  Jin turned to thank the taxi driver, but the man was already speeding off, tyres kicking up dust in his wake. Only his warning remained:

  “No one goes to Ward 3 unless they’ve got a death wish.”

  Jin scoffed, his fingers tightening around the strap of his duffel bag. “It can’t be that bad, right?”

  No. It was worse.

  The apartment building where he once called home loomed like a ruin. The lift was dead, so he took the stairs. Yet each step was punctuated by broken furniture and the unmistakable reek of human and animal waste scattered like landmines.

  By the time he reached the second floor, his heart sank.

  The door to his apartment hung off its hinges, creaking like it was on its last breath. The grill was torn away, the lock shattered.

  Inside, the stench assailed him further. Worse than a sewer, worse than the bloodied human remains he often worked with. His home had become the graveyard of his memory and dreams.

  Furniture he’d saved for, polished, and loved was now splintered into kindling. The marbled floor, once pristine, was slick with grime that clung to his boots like suction cups. Cobwebs draped every corner, trembling in the draft. Used syringes glinted among yellowed newspapers, their needles ready to prick unsuspecting visitors.

  Jin’s stomach lurched in despair, but it was Eleana’s room that gutted him outright.

  Her study table lay in two jagged halves, its legs splayed like a broken doll’s. The mattress had been carved open, its stuffing spilt like entrails. And there, nestled in the wreckage, was the final insult.

  A turd – or a bunch of them – left by some animal who’d turned his daughter’s bed into a toilet.

  He forced himself to check the rest – the kitchen, the toilet, his own room. By the time he stumbled back into the hallway, his face was a mask of hollow shock. If not for the changes wrought in him since becoming Dr Frankenstein, he’d have emptied his stomach until it bled.

  “Kri?”

  “The little one senses your distress, Jin. Is something wrong?”

  Bahamut’s deep, regal voice slithered into his mind, a voice of calm in a sea of chaos.

  “E-Everything is wrong, Bee. Everything.” Jin forced out the words, tears streaking his beard.

  “But is this not your home?” Bahamut continued. “Where the heart is, as you say. Is this not what you wished for?” “

  “No! No!” Jin’s voice broke, his head between his knees, hands tearing at his hair. “I mean… just look at this… this… hell. It used to be my home. Our home. Where my daughter…”

  “Your daughter? You mean Eleana? I saw no trace of her.”

  “S-She’s not here.”

  “Then where is she?”

  Jin scrubbed his palms over his face, as if he could wipe away the nightmare around him along with the tears. “I-I don’t know.”

  For a heartbeat, the weight of it all threatened to crush him. He could stay here, drowning in the ruin of what was. Yet, the memory of his wife’s dying face and her last wishes played deep within his mind.

  “I know it’s going to be very hard for you, Kaz. But I know you can do it. For me. For her…”

  Jin bit his lips until they bled. Elyzabeth’s gentle voice sparked a resolve that cut through the despair, igniting deep in his guts. He stood, patting dirt from his knee. His eyes, once muddled, were now clear.

  So too was his next destination.

  “But I know who might.”

  “Who?”

  “Old Man Sid.”

  As Jin descended from the apartment building, the taxi driver’s warning finally clicked into place. In his rush to find Eleana, he’d barely registered how far Neo-Tokyo’s Ward 3 had fallen.

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  The stench of rust and decay, the boarded-up convenience store he used to frequent, the eerie silence of a neighbourhood left to rot. All of it and more had all blurred into the background.

  But now, passing through the area a second time, it hit him like a gut-punch, rewound.

  Then he saw it.

  A message sprawled in red paint across the shuttered store’s grill – a bloodied demon skull.

  The mark of the Blood Fiend.

  A gang of Unregistered Players. The scourge of Neo-Tokyo. No matter how hard SeComm tried, these bastards sought out territories where resistance was minimal, especially places like Ward 3, and turned them into gang turf. If they caught Jin lingering, he’d be in for a world of trouble.

  He didn’t waste another second. He ran, putting his old home behind him as he headed for Ward 5, where his most trusted friend stayed. Hopefully, it remained as he remembered.

  ***

  “Who the fuck comes knocking like a barbarian at this hour? If you’re Death, fuck off and go next door!”

  Ah. Old Man Sid. Just as charming as Jin remembered.

  “Oi. It’s me, you old coot.”

  The door creaked open halfway, revealing a craggy old man in his late sixties. Bald with a stubble, nothing like the Old Man Sid Jin remembered.

  “Who in my mother’s teats are you?! I don’t owe any fucking bearded European money. Get lost!”

  Jin facepalmed. “Tone down the curses, Sid. It’s me. Jin. Sasaki Jin.”

  A beat of silence followed. Then Old Man Sid burst into laughter before cutting himself off with a growl.

  “You damn bearded arsehole. Didn’t your mother teach you not to use a dead man’s name?”

  “You bloody bastard. You blind or gone senile?” Jin shot back. Already on the edge, Old Man Sid’s words were pushing him further into the realm of insanity. “This is Jin. Dr Frankenstein. Remember? Your old pal?”

  Old Man Sid’s bloodshot eyes narrowed behind the partly opened door. “Is this some kind of joke? Jin died seven years ago. Now buzz off before I call the police.”

  “What do you mean ‘dead’? I came back-“

  Old Man Sid was about to slam the door, only for Jin’s boot to jam it open at the very last second. Realising that introducing himself repeatedly would never work, Jin tried another approach. It worked in TV shows, anyway.

  “Your wife left you for a younger man in your eighth year of marriage, Sid!”

  “What the-?”

  “But you won custody. Three kids – two boys and a girl. Your eldest is three years younger than me, so he’s 39 now. And your favourite granddaughter, Stacy, is the same age as Eleana. Seventeen this year, right?”

  Old Man Sid’s grip on the door faltered. “It’s in public record. Any dimwit with a SeComm terminal could dig that up.”

  Jin grinned.

  “Fine. Let’s try something less public.” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “Seven years ago. You, Ritchie and me. We were the last three Cleaners out of that RIFT. But at the very last minute, I turned back to look for a certain Miss Archer. Ring any bells?”

  Old Man Sid’s face darkened. “How the hell? Only a handful of people knew about that.”

  “Still not convinced?” Jin’s grin widened. “How about Leah?”

  This time, Old Man Sid froze.

  “She’s a Sword-user Class Player. Twenty years your junior. You wanted to date her, yet you made me ask her out for you. She said she’d date an old man, but not a Cleaner. That night, you drank yourself silly, cursing her name. You even pissed in your pants. Next morning, you made me lie to HQ, said you-”

  “Enough!” Sid snapped, but his voice lacked its earlier bite. He still blocked the door, but his posture relaxed. “Even if you know everything, you don’t look like Jin.”

  “What? Don’t tell me you’re fooled by my beard and hair?”

  “Fuck your mane, bastard. I don’t care how hairy you are. But height? That you can’t fool me. You’re a head taller than Jin. And buffier too.”

  “So what? I’m a late bloomer. I had my second growth spurt during the last seven years, you old coot.”

  Old Man Sid scoffed. “Anyway, the Jin I knew wasn’t as vulgar and rude as you. He was always amiable and agreeable.”

  Jin let out a chuckle. “Try surviving what I have been through, Sid. See if you don’t come out a changed man. Besides, you’ve changed too. Used to be clean-shaven, hair trimmed proper. But now? You look like a balding drunkard.”

  “Fuck you, shithead.” Old Man Sid stepped aside, though his bloodshot glare never wavered. “Get in. But one wrong move, and I’ll blow a hole in you.”

  “With what? This?” Jin pulled out his flask and took a swig. “New York’s stuff sure hits different. Now, what’s for dinner? All that running and talking’s got me starved.”

  Dinner was a combination of tasteless mashed potatoes and plain steak that was more leathery than edible. Unfortunately – despite Jin’s complaint – that portion was barely enough for one, so Old Man Sid had to fire up his kitchen once more.

  Between the cooking and shared beers, Jin recounted everything. From the dragon’s relentless attack to the moment the RIFT closed, the time he spent in the abyss up to his eventual return three weeks ago.

  At first, Old Man Sid listened with wide-eyed amazement, wiping occasional drool that escaped his lips. But as the story wore on, his hands began to tremble.

  If Jin hadn’t steadied Old Man’s shoulder, the steak might’ve ended up on the ceiling, the mashed potatoes splattered like a mud bath. Not that they looked much better after the cook mistakenly dumped soya sauce into them instead of cream.

  But food, despite what it looked and smelled like, was still food. After plating it for himself, Old Man Sid finally spoke.

  “Let me get this straight. You’re telling me you met God before the RIFT closed?”

  “How about I show you instead?” Jin replied with a grin. “Bee. Vee. Time to say hello to my good friend here.”

  Old Man Sid was about to scoff. But then the air hummed, and Bahamut materialised out of thin air. His scales shimmered like molten black onyx under the kitchen light as he nestled onto Jin’s head, gnawing on a cinnamon croissant. Old Man Sid’s fork clattered to the floor.

  Then Viridiana appeared, licked the sludge that was the mashed potato on Old Man Sid’s plate and stuck out her tongue in disgust before scampering towards Jin’s lap.

  Silence fell like a graveyard in the kitchen before Old Man Sid picked the fork from the floor. His trembling hands, however, made the effort much harder. Until Viridiana finally helped the struggling old man out.

  “T-Thank you, God?”

  Jin burst out in laughter. “That’s the carbuncle I saved, Sid. Viridiana’s her name.”

  “And where’s God, then?”

  Jin pointed at Bahamut, still enjoying dinner on top of his head. “This one.”

  “You mean that pudgy lizard?”

  “Pudgy lizard?”

  Bahamut’s tail lashed out, whipping Jin’s neck hard enough that it nearly sent him sprawling across the room. Yet, the man managed to hold on by the edge of the dinner table, noticing that Bahamut was more than just annoyed.

  “I have met many mortals throughout my lifetime, but none other than humans from Earth have this penchant to annoy powers beyond their comprehension.”

  “I-I-It can talk?!” Once again, Old Man Sid dropped the fork he barely grasped in his hands.

  “Is this friend of yours dumb? I prefer the other one. The girl you brought last night.”

  Jin had to play mediator. “Now, now. Don’t be angry, Bee. He’s surprised, that’s all. Who wouldn’t when they see and hear a talking monster?”

  “Monster? I am not a monster. I am God-Emperor of Allbeast, Ruler of the Cosmic and known Universe and the First System Arbiter, Divinia Bahamut.”

  “There you have it, Sid.” Jin laughed.

  Old Man Sid sweat profusely, his bald head shining under the light. Even though the air-conditioner was running at full power, it still felt warm. Very warm. And uncomfortably so.

  “All these years… what’ve I been praying to?

  Jin took a slow sip from his flask, then smirked. “That’s your karma, old friend. Karma.”