Sneaking wasn’t really his profession. He could still recall and was actually recalling the time when he was trying to sneak into the principal’s office. “Dark versus Bright. Day versus Night. In costume versus not in costume. Experienced versus inexperienced. Running versus slinking. Everything’s suggesting that I’ll definitely make it,” the silliest kind of proof popped up in his mind like he couldn’t think of something funnier.

He and his running speed paces were plausibly the only things that were still hovering in this building. Fear went off quite early at the time he figured that he was the only one here, and anger was restrained by his silly nostalgia for that teenage sneaking. He again grabbed that stick in his hand harder, but not due to fear.

The dorm of the employees and the subjects were in another building. This one he was in was where experiments were truly done. “The material room 3A1, the storage room 3A3, A lab 3A6, B lab 3a7…….” Monsterer scanned through all the doorplates he ran by as he got more and more confused. “Control room 3B1? Where the hell is 3A9? Is it even on the third floor?” Monsterer paused his steps while his heavy breath continued in front of the last room on the floor.

He had his hands on his knees and half bent his back. He was too and very old for exercising like this. That stick in his hand wasn’t really adding a lot of weight, but Monsterer still managed to blame it instead of on his deteriorated stamina. He ended up holding his stick and decided to strike the handle of the door in front of him. 3B1 was the only chamber without windows. All the rest of the rooms had windows and curtains covering any sight that attempted to peep into the room.

But the steel in his hand was stopped in the air after he swung his arm and closed his eyes. He was kind of aware of what kind of deadly trouble he was in. “Very deadly,” he had the idea in mind even before he opened his eyes and saw that pure white mask in front of him. The mask wasn’t just a piece of fabric. It had a supportive structure so that it didn’t show the shape of the man’s real face shape. Before Monsterer’s rust brain reacted to this, the supportive forehead hit the skull-designed forehead. Pieces of space were immediately created between the two. The moment before that man reached out his hand again was the only moment for Monsterer to take a deeper look at the man in front of him.

The white mask on the man’s face had a yellow star icon on the forehead and two straight lines started from the eyes and converged at the center of the lip. The mask merely showed the shape of his nose and almost fully covered the mouth. Although there aren’t any glasses to protect the eyes, the man’s glowing eyes didn’t really seem to need protection.

Below the head, his gleaming reflective white tight was covered under hundreds of golden rings that formed a glinting chain mail. The shining armor ended with his leather belt. His trousers were simply just white jeans, without chain mail and gold.

Monsterer knew who was the one in front of him. He immediately dropped the stick while determining to take a few steps back. Before the determination turned into action, that man in white lifted his hand to the face of Monsterer.

“Ahhhhh!” The colorless bright flash that burst into Monsterer’s eyes got him immediately to the ground, crawling multiple steps away from the white-suited man. “Casting a flash grenade with his bare hand” was exactly what Monsterer heard in gossip and hearsay.

“Wait! Wait!” Monsterer pulled in his knees and curled up as he yelled for surrender. “Who are you, funny guy?” The man reached out his hand and lifted the curling man up after he grasped his collar. With his hands in the air and eyes regaining sight, he said, “Please, I know you are Mooner. You have to help me!”

“Why are you sneaking in a private land?” Mooner asked fiercely with slight ridicule in his tone. “They kidnapped my friend. I need to find him.”

“Elaborate.”

“He volunteered to join an experiment here. He always called his father after work, but we lost contact with him recently. Please, you are the one that executes justice. We need you.”

“Shouldn’t you be in the dorm?” the fierceness was dropped and ridicules faded away from his voice. “I’d be caught immediately, so I am just here to find the result of the experiment. I want to know if he’s…….” the sentence paused before the answer that he was actually looking for.

The silence only lasted a few seconds. “You know where you’re finding?” Mooner released the collar and did a small push on Monsterer’s chest.

“I heard the place they did the experiment is 3A9.” Monsterer did a little pull on his hem, “thank you, sir. You can call me Monsterer,” he abrupted and said, ”or Doad. That’s my real name.”

“I’ll find 3A9, and if there is anything about the experiment, we will meet at Beck’s Bark,” Mooner tapped on the man’s shoulder with only tenderness in his eyes.

“The boy’s name is Sparkie Detona,” Doad walked past Mooner as he said, “thank you” again.

Doad climbed up and fell from the iron railing again, but with no fear nor anger this time. Relief was the only feeling he could feel. “How can it go wrong? That Mooner from the news and hearsays is handling this,” Doad silently questioned himself just to answer it with relief. For a moment, Doad actually thought about the possibility that Mooner was really a malicious outlaw like the news described. The thought dropped out of his head in a dozen seconds. He acted closer to his descriptions in popular hearsays that portrayed him as a crime fighter. The government had officially “verified” those hearsays as fake stories made by bad people, but the majority of believers were made of students imprisoned in schools.

The black-dyed green sedan ran through the night under the innocent moon and among devils the moon created.