"Uh, who's there?" The old man shambles forward with his cane. A seashell-like device peeks from his ear. His left eye is closed, covered by a spectacle which contrasts his wooden-brown skin.

"I'm Sandra Hua, Sir. From Dogson City. We're only here to talk." Sandra shifts her weight from a foot to another as her eyes avoid the president's black, expressionless one.

"I might be old"—he warns as he slowly lifts his cane from the ground, waving its rattlesnake-tailed tip at the girls—"half-blind, and almost deaf, but am not weak."

Despite his bent knees, the purple cloak around his suit still radiates power. The way he speaks with dignity... it's believable that he was the one who brought Biliya Republic to its independence five decades ago.

"My staff keeps on telling your barbaric behaviors. Moreover, of the blonde-pigtailed girl." He shuffles forward with eyes trained on Arsy. "You two stirred chaos in the Flagged House." It's like water hasn't touched his throat for ages. His lopsided smile, however, calms my insides a bit. "But since you two are so young and... spirited, I'll let it pass. I hope you're here for a good cause."

I breathe out a sigh of relief. I turn my head to Roy, who's still scowling at his phone with Xin-Yo perching on his shoulder like a curious cockatoo. "The president doesn't seem bad."

Roy throws a cynical smile. "What did I tell you, Allice? Don't trust people that easily. Remember what Beatrix told us."

Shaking my head to myself, I mutter, "But you believed Beatrix Kamal's words about the president immediately." I return to the screen and lean back on the chair to stretch my stiff muscles.

Though the crowd has long left my side, they aren't busying over their usual activities either. Their minds are still here—with the troubled girls.

Mrs. Sybil sighs as she scrolls the screen of her phone while pacing around. "Is there a way we can cut Ivon Fray's access to Deep Tombs' secret cameras?"

"If there was, I would've done it by now," Roy mutters like there's a storm cloud above his head. "There's nothing we can do but wait. We should see what he's up to."

"And make Arsy your martyr?" The storm brewing in Mrs. Sybil's eyes grows more dangerous than Roy's, and it makes my heart skip a beat. "You must do something. You're a genius, aren't you?"

Roy rubs his eyes with furious knuckles, while he bites his lips with a force that might rip it open. "We should be more realistic. Worrying over them will get us nowhere. We should probably prepare for the worst—"

The worst? What does he mean? "You don't think they'll die—"

"No, Allice," he snaps. "I won't let that happen. The worst I meant was what Sandra said the night before she left. Do you remember?"

With one last glance at the girls and the president, I trace back the events from four days ago. After closing my eyes, the words echo in my head like a phantom, making me curl my fist in panic.

If the relocation continues after all we've done to convince the president, Plan B's on you two.

"Are you talking about the spare plan?"

Roy lowers his head as he leaves his sitting position. "We should link all of these chaotic events and bring the world's attention to Dogson. If we can't get the president's, then the world's must do..."

"And how are you going to do that?" Mrs. Sybil's neck snaps to Roy like a squirrel to its predator. "Do you even know what you're talking about?"

Sandra's hastily-spoken words grab my focus, distracting me from the upcoming battle between Roy and Mrs. Sybil.

"What I'm going to say is... Dogson City has done some unacceptable adjustments to fit the criterias of the capital. Um, you see—"

"They're kicking out innocent people."

My jaw hangs slightly open at Arsy's blunt attack.

It's the president we're trying to win, for Dogson's sake. Not just any grandpa.

After a long, awkward silence, the president grunts. "How?"

"They make accidents look like one when it's not." Sandra glances around the ceilings, and for a few seconds, her eyes lock up with the camera. A bubble of hope rises in me, but it soon pops after she averts her gaze. If she had noticed it and chose to run away instead... "First, an incident caused by Oriental City Zoo. Almost half of their animals escaped to certain parts of the city. We suspect that they were turned into bioweapons. The mayor already protected the important neighborhoods with special devices, so those animals couldn't behave aggressively there. But at unprotected areas..."

"They're also targeting activists." Arsy's scraping soles imitate a squeaky rat, as if trying to cover up the harshness of her words. "One of our friends lost nearly his entire family for it."

Wait... why are they including me there?

"There's also one recent suicide-bombing in the city... which ended up with three activists dead. The mayor also always puts out our protests—"

"He ought to," the president replies amidst his coughs.

No... he did not just say that. He's not on Jorge's side, isn't he?

"You see, I'd do that too. If someone talks too loud, others may follow. It's backstabbing the government, who has been taking care of them."

But that's not the case here. Dogson's government hasn't picked our side even before Sandra's grandma led the city. The rules they're creating are slowly killing us. Rising taxes, shutting up the protesters, locking up those who disagree with the ongoing orders...

He waves nonchalantly, and my blood boils. "You can't let a provocator ruin the peace of thousands of others." He averts his attention to the First Lady, whose hands hold a small bouquet of daisies. "Something has to be sacrificed in everything. An ideal government too. If I should sacrifice myself as contribution for our city, I'd help. As long as our lives are spared."

"No wonder you're a president. You're undeniably patriotic, Sir." Arsy's respect-stripped tone makes me almost choke. Yet, the small sprout of respect I've had for her since the day we met grows a bit now.

Not long after, a loud groan throws me back to the cave's situation.

"There's no point of being stubborn, Mrs. Sybil." Roy rolls his eyes as he places his hands on his hips. "How much do you know, anyway? If you're about to expose Dogson to the world, what aspects will you focus on?"

This time, it's Grand-Mad and Miro's turn to roll their eyes. "You really are a child, Sybil. Your pride is getting the better of you." Grand-Mad eyes her daughter-in-law's deepening scowl with disbelief. "You'll look like a Dumb Gulper shark in front of him."

Miro snorts at the mention of the rare, yet dumb fish. I only smile in return. Auntie Morgan's weekly lessons sure help us a lot with animals.

Yet, Grand-Mad's words come out as vain.

"Well, first of all, how could the escaping animals be linked to the capital-relocation scheme? Simple. Once the lowly citizens got badly attacked, they'd probably consider moving somewhere else."

Roy quirks his eyebrow a bit—more like questioning rather than impressed. "And how would you explain the Chiroquin in the animals' bodies?"

"Why, that's also simple. It was so the animals could do more damage to the city."

A grin breaks the sternness on Roy's face. "I really hate to know this before you, but Allice's aunt's research proved there's something more. You see, there was ten-percent of Chiroquin in one of the shrimps' hemolymph—or blood. Enough to last for a week in its system, after it excreted." The grin also knocks off the triumphant smirk from Mrs. Sybil's face. "It has a long-term purpose, and it's not only to damage the city facilities. Like you first said, they can attack the citizens as well. They're like a part of an animal army. They're bio-weapons, indeed."

Though it heats up my brain, the fact that Roy also studies Auntie Morgan's notes make pride swell inside me.

Auntie Morgan sure is better than a good-for-nothing housewife.

"And what does this have to do with Dogson's Mayor?" President Benjamin's grunt brings me back to the laptop screen. "You suspect that Jorge Zaragoza is also behind this? That's a dire accusation."

Without any warnings, there are footsteps outside. Faint, but sharp. Who is coming their way? Are they on our side, or Ivon Fray's?

"Are those sins not enough to scare you?" The president and Sandra snap their heads to Arsy. "Should I make a list to remind you how unsafe Dogson is? How there are lots of dangerous events happening there, not long after the new mayor leads? Moving away from the capital doesn't seem wise. No refugees are going to kill you, anyway." There's something smoldering in her eyes: determination. "We might be young, but we aren't clueless."

A foggy cloud escapes the president's mouth. "That's not for you to determine, young lady. The humanity crisis in Lizare is pretty critical—"

"Moving to Dogson isn't a good option either, Sir," Sandra pipes in. "Lizare needs you. The immigrants won't trust your judgments in the future if you leave them alone. Lizare's citizens, too. Maybe the whole country as well."

Well, this will be much easier once the president agrees to cancel the relocation. It'll also ruin Jorge and his friends' plans... and whatever they have in store.

"Though they're from another country, those immigrants are humans too. And so are Dogson's Lowlifes, who the government has been bullying all these years." Arsy huffs as she grabs a Rubik's Shield from her pocket.

Wait, what is she doing?

"I'll give it another thought." The president heaves himself off the chair, sucking a mouthful of stale air. "You are such thought-provoking companies. I apologize, but an old man needs time to process all these. They're... hard to digest. Seventy-two years of experience aren't prepping me enough."

The footsteps are several steps away now.

"Whatever your decision is, Sir, please make it better than your judgment of the Okauri situation." Arsy pierces him with a glare before scuttling out of the room.

Sandra diligently bows, almost treading out when the president speaks, "Okauri situation? I certainly did... I signed that I agreed with the others to punish Okauri Country politically."

Huh, what does it mean? Did he sign the wrong agreement? What's going on?

"But Sir"—Sandra chews on her bottom lip—"the world knows you're against it."

"Against?" His voice shakes the room with a daunting quake. Even the camera slightly trembles, right when it's zooming at the newcomer at the door frame. "Ivon, what is she talking about?"

Did he just say 'Ivon'? As in... Ivon Fray?

The voices around me die down, as if the cave has just turned into Deep Tombs itself.

Ivon Fray, the person responsible for all the miseries we've been through lately, is there. Crisply suited and beaver-teethed. The buttons of his smooth suit are shaped like an eye, as if confirming that he's The Overseer.

"Since when meeting strangers out of schedule is allowed, Sir?"

"If you weren't so afraid for letting us in, this wouldn't have happened," Sandra barks at him. Yet, her confidence doesn't last long. She looks around the room like a lost child, while Ivon Fray looks at the camera with an expectant gaze.

What is he waiting for? But most of all, why doesn't he mention Arsy? Why is he here, too? It's too early for a morning patrol...

The crowd huddles up around me once more to catch a glimpse of the screen. But not long after, it dies down into a black void, with Ivon Fray's cold and searching look as its last view.

A/N: I'm sorry that this chapter is a few updates late. Lots of things have been happening lately, and honestly, overwhelmed is an understatement of my condition. There are some information I'd like to post.

1. Though I swore not to, I have no choice but to put the story on hold for some time now (the expected comeback will be in two weeks—on October 7th, 2020). I'm running out of chapters stock, and since I'm mentally drained, writing hasn't come to me naturally.

I also decide to separate the overall story into two parts, and the next chapters will be considered as Part II (will be emphasized during later edit though). I expect this story will reach 50-ish chapters.

2. I've also decided to step down from joining the Wattys, though that was the deadline I aimed for when I first started writing this book. I'm pretty upset at myself since I can't finish it on time, even after being so hard on myself during writing. Yet, I also hope to join with a better preparation next year.

I want to thank everyone who has encouraged me to participate in it. I also want to apologize for turning the chance down this year. I also wish everyone who joins it the very best of luck—I'll be supporting you!

Thanks for reading this until the end. Thank you for supporting me this far too. I hope you enjoy how this turns out... do let me know how it is, because though I haven't had much time to reply to your comments, I really find them useful for my revisions later on. I'm also willing to help yours in the same way (if I haven't), once I have enough time to dedicate.

I'm also really grateful for each and every one of you <3