“Lorenzo,” Bob opened the door and found the middle schooler sitting on his bed with a book.

“Uncle Bob!” the child chimed happily.

“How you doing, you little devil?” Bob smiled and winked at him. He went to sit by the child’s side and looked at the book he was reading.

It was an illustrated version of the Divine Comedy.

For children, obviously.

“Oh, Dante?” Bob said with his usual cheer. “You know, I actually read a lot of Dante! Do you want me to recite a few verses for you?”

The child nodded, enraptured by the subsequent show that Bob put on.

Bob probably made a bunch of mistakes, but if the kid knew, the little thing didn’t call him out.

“You are great Uncle Bob! What’s your favorite part of the poems?”

The kid was usually silent and very bookish, but he loved chatting with Bob, apparently.

“I think it would be among the greedy ones in the purgatory, little Devil. Uncle Bob liked money a lot.”

“Oh, bound to look at the floor and recite their sins until God will forgive them,” Lorenzo said with a nod.

“Yeah, those ones,” Bob blushed a bit. To be honest, it had been a silly answer. He didn’t really remember the Divine Comedy that well and he couldn’t pin down nor remember in which part where those with the sin of greed punished.

“It’s incredible that you can remember the whole thing, Uncle Bob,” Lorenzo said, “I asked mom and dad to give me more books on the Divine Comedy but they told me that this one was hard enough. And it’s true. I can barely remember the most general events of the book.”

“It takes practice,” Bob lied with a candid face. “Just work harder and you will be able to do anything! By the way, little devil, what’s your favorite part?”

“Oh, it would definitely be the Canto XXIX, Uncle Bob,” Lorenzo said with a very serious face that looked super cute on his childish traits. “To be more precise, the verses from the 58th onward are the best, I think.”

“Oh, I love those! Aren’t you the smartest little devil, huh?” Bob said with no idea what those verses were about, but he still ruffled the kid’s hair.

“Would you play with me a little, Uncle Bob? I have a puzzle and I wanted to finish it before dinner,” the child smiled.

“Sure, why not?”

Bob decided there would be time left to clean later.

…

“Uncle Bob, do you think things will be okay?” Lorenzo asked. “Mom says that we are never going back to normal and cries while she’s in the room with dad.”

“Oh,” Bob found himself in a pickle. Being eleven, Lorenzo was rapidly approaching his teenage years and he was quite the smart kid. And he was very perceptive too.

“I’m sure things will be okay after a while!” Bob didn’t hesitate for a second before answering.

He scratched his knee, feeling a slight discomfort in his right leg. He had hiked quite a few kilometers the day before and that had to be the soreness finally getting to him. Bob had thought he had actually avoided any pain since he hadn’t had any in the first morning. But sometimes, sadly, those pains came with a delay. It was as if they liked to let you believe you were in the clear and then, at the exact moment you finally sighed excitedly, they ambushed you.

“But Mom says that we will all die, Uncle Bob,” Lorenzo looked distressed now and his eyes were teary.

“Oh, Lorenzo, don’t worry. It’s all going to be fine,” Bob moved over and gave the little kid a hug.

“You promise?” Lorenzo asked with a broken voice.

“I do, kid. It’s all going to be fine,” Bob said.

…

At night, the Moretti family and the three guests were cooking some soup thanks to Lorenzo’s mother Fire Magic. Claudia Moretti had learned some from the Vermillion Tyrant himself and she could now heat water easily without woods or any other kindling.

“Bob, thank you for helping cleaning up and with…” Claudia said while nodding toward her son; Lorenzo had brought his book at the table and was still reading his dumbed down version of the Divine Comedy.

“It’s a pleasure, really. Thank you both for housing us here. You two are fantastic guests,” Bob said with a warm smile.

They were not.

But Bob didn’t really care.

Lorenzo’s father, George, was a bit of an asshole. The man had been filthy rich in their past life. He had been a doctor, but he still had to find his footing in the apocalypse. In fact, Bob could tell that the man had taken one of his trips to the wine cellar and gotten more than tipsy.

“George, eat something,” Claudia nudged the meaty soup toward her husband, hoping that he would take the alcohol’s edge off with some food. But didn’t seem to be among George’s plans.

“Shut up,” the man said, while pouring out some wine in a cup he had been carrying around all day. He reeked of wine, and more than a stain tainted his white shirt. Even with his huge wardrobe, the man was soon running out of clothes without wine on them.

And not just that, but George had also fallen behind in Cultivation. He had awakened at the 7th level of both Martial and Magical Talent, but he was still at the 5th level of the Cockroach Realm.

“Daddy, are you ok?” Lorenzo asked, for the first time raising his face from the book.

George scoffed, downed his cup, and abruptly abandoned the table.

“Your dad’s fine,” Bob said, “he’s just a bit tired. Let him go to sleep. I’m sure he will feel better tomorrow.”

Bob didn’t really know what else to tell the child.

“Yeah, don’t worry, child,” the man named Oscar sneered from the side, “everything will be alright. You just sit tight.”

“Oscar,” Russel pitched in, admonishing the other man’s tone. Then, toward the kid, Russel repeated the words but with a warmer tone: “Everything’s going to be alright, little fella.”

Bob eyed the two with a severe gaze. Even if the father of the kid was an idiot, there was no reason to make fun of Lorenzo.

“Hey, Lorenzo, have you ever tried reading another book?” Oscar volunteered from the other end of the table with a malignant smile.

Oscar was quite short and pudgy, and even if he was probably the weakest among the three guests, he was the most arrogant and bold.

“Uhm, I read other books. I just like this one,” Lorenzo answered without raising his eyes.

“Oscar,” Bob growled.

“Oh, come on, Lorenzo. I bet you only stare at the images on the book, and that you don’t really read, huh?”

That really ticked off the kid, who started sobbing and ran away to his room. But not before saying: “You belong to the sinners who stay underwater in the fifth circle.”

“Christ, Oscar, what’s your goddamn problem?” Bob slammed a fist on the table.

Claudia went after her son, trying to comfort him.

“Me? I have no problem. But the little idiot is going to become a liability really fast, isn’t he?” Oscar stared balefully toward the second floor, where Lorenzo’s room was.