I had been walking for some time now. The faint hue of morning crept across the horizon, dyeing the once-dark, blue-blanketed sky with soft bands of orange and gold.
Huh… it's been a while since I last watched the sun rise.What lay before me was a vast, green pasture sprawled across a mountainous slope. Distant towns peppered the landscape, each one just close enough to imagine touching them side by side—like a diorama frozen in time.
It wasn't particularly urban. I could see windmills turning lazily in the breeze, their wooden arms creaking as they watched over brown homes built in traditional fashion. The air carried with it the smell of old wood, moss, and fresh earth. At the center of the road, framed by fields, stood a large, crooked electrical pole—half-devoured by ivy.
As I ventured further, a weathered postal sign came into view, its paint cracked and sun-bleached. In bold letters, it read:
Dowell Shimau.
"What a weird name…"
The cracked asphalt beneath my feet was lined with creeping moss, and my footsteps echoed faintly in the silence. Whistling to pass the time, I couldn't help but let out a dry laugh at the absurdity of it all. After everything I'd seen and been through, somehow… I was bored.
I mean—can't a guy be bored, even if he's lived through every eventful thing imaginable?
The houses were old, fitted with sliding doors and creaky panels. This town—this peaceful, meadow-like place—seemed locked in a different era. I passed by a volleyball court, and from a distance, I watched a game unfold.
There were girls laughing in the back line. One of them, with dark skin and jet-black hair tied into curled tufts, leapt gracefully into the air, striking the ball mid-spin. A violet-haired boy with a scar down his cheek dove to intercept the return, laughing as he crashed into the dust.
They looked happy.
Further down, an old man sat shirtless on a wooden stool, carefully carving a stick with a knife. Each motion was slow, deliberate—he was making a small spear out of it. I had time to talk. I could've walked up, introduced myself, asked what it was for…But I didn't.
Adam scratched his head awkwardly and walked past. He wasn't the kind of person who easily broke the silence with strangers.
I reached the edge of the town where the beach began to bleed into the land. Kayaks and small palm-wood boats floated lazily on the water, and plastic buckets were stacked along the shore. A peculiar man sat on a coconut tree—of all places—his head adorned with a comically oversized loaf of bread like a crown.
He noticed me, raising a lazy hand.
"Hey there! Want some salmon? Or sardines, maybe?"
I stared blankly.Adam: -_-
"Why do you have a loaf of bread on your head?"
The man blinked once, calm and unfazed. His voice was oddly soft.
"Ah, you see… promotional advertisement." He coughed into his hand. "If it weren't for this glorious loaf of BREAD—you wouldn't even know someone's selling fresh salmon or tilapia right here, now would you?"
I sighed.
"I don't… I mean, I don't really eat. I'm not hungry."
The bread-headed fisherman let out a long breath.
"Yeah, weird, isn't it? How people still eat even when they don't need to? Still drink, too. I mean—why eat if you don't have to? Why drink, if you really dont thirst am i right? Oh, those poor Breadreans… and the coffee cups too."
…What?
I tried to leave. There was no way I was going to let myself get stuck in this spiral of nonsense.
"So are you gonna buy some fish? Atleast this fishes are souless"
"No, sorry."
I made a sharp exit and found myself inside what looked like a tiny grocery shop. But the moment I stepped in—I paused.
It was packed. With monsters.
Some of them were blobby creatures with horns and ink-like bodies, waddling up and down the aisles, restocking shelves with speed and precision. There was laughter echoing off the walls, weird jazzy music playing from an unseen source. A shadowy figure near the back hurled a can across the room in perfect form—only for it to be caught effortlessly by what I assumed was the cashier.
He was moving—dancing, actually.The cashier dropkicked a display box, spun on one arm like a breakdancer, then leapt over the counter in a perfect somersault, landing with a dramatic pose.
I choked back a laugh.
"COUGH, haha—"
Unfortunately, he heard me.The cashier—a shadowy figure with slicked hair and no visible face—froze mid-motion, then turned his head toward me. Slowly, he walked back to the register, where he assumed a perfectly neutral stance, placing one hand on the scanner with the seriousness of a salaryman.
Monsters erupted into applause.
"There you go, Rogan! Showin' the moves!"
Before I knew it, I had been gently but firmly pushed into the center of the room. Cold, oddly shaped hands touched my back, guiding me into what had now clearly become a party.
They were expecting something from me. I didn't know what. I didn't know this weird dance. I just… moved my hands downward, then swung them in a small loop. A dumb dance. I panicked.
They laughed. Hard.
A new figure stepped forward. Middle-aged. Medium-length hair streaked with gray, but his skin was flawless, his posture straight. He wore a leather jacket, and large round glasses framed his calm, gentlemanly face.
"Hello everyone. I'd like to remind you that this store is for quiet monsters only. You may do your business, your hobbies, outside—and please maintain calm behavior."
Of course, no one listened.
The monsters didnt care, as if there were just a wave that doesnt stops... But the black shadowy figure as i look at him had some hair, but it was all dark as if it was an html color and his face aswell...
He returned to the cashier, his movements slowing, body settling—becoming neutral once more. As calm as anyone could possibly be in their job, as if nothing had just happened.
Oh adam thought to himself he must be the boss of this store then...
The middle age person with a leathered jacket and round glasses cough, "Sorry about that... You must be a new visitor from this place, there's not many new face that i could ever see on this place"
As he raised his hand confirming a handshake i held his hands... as he smiles with a sly eye and walks away...