They continued walking home in silence. The two men were never on the talkative side, but this time they both had something on their minds.
After regaining his composure, Kazeem was… embarrassed. First, he thought about crying in his dad’s arms. He couldn’t even remember the last time he cried in the past sixteen years, and he especially didn’t expect to do it in front of his dad. And secondly, he thought about the thoughts he had earlier.
I will fight it, destroy it, kill it and devour it? Really, Kazeem? he thought. The fact that he genuinely meant it wasn’t enough to make the cringe and second-hand embarrassment disappear.
Thank the gods I didn’t say it out loud… wait — devour it? Why did I say that…?
Since the start of his curse, it seemed that he had grown another stomach , one that was never completely full and made him slightly hungry every time a loop happened. This constant feeling of hunger seemed to have slipped into his vocabulary too.
Lost in thought, Kazeem began to reminisce — about what his mother taught him about the ancient civilization, about what had just happened earlier, and about what would happen “tomorrow.”
After all, he would have to relive today again when he woke up.
Zokou didn’t seem different from usual at first glance, but the atmosphere around him would make any ordinary person uneasy, as if a predator were lurking in the shadows, not waiting for them to drop their guard, but simply wondering how vicious his attack could be. His dark brown eyes were colder than usual. The killing intent hidden in them could give goosebumps to even the most seasoned scavenger.
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
He was contemplating how he should dispose of that old spirit-watcher, and the consequences of doing so. But after hearing his son’s questions and sensing the resolve forming within him, he decided to let him handle it.
The path you’re about to walk is far more dangerous than you can imagine. That old bitch isn’t even strong enough to be a housekeeper in the capital. And even then, the obstacles a spirit-watcher must overcome to reach her level are beyond what you can fathom.
I know this might be too much for a first prey — but “do it right or don’t do it at all” is something I taught you since you could walk.
You want to be stronger? Want to deal with spirit-watchers? Then show me. Show me your resolve and destroy that pile of bones.
And if you can’t handle even this… then your journey ends here. You stay in this middle-of-nowhere town, beside your parents until we are gone. I’ll break your leg myself if that’s what it takes to keep you alive.
The more Zokou thought about it, the more he returned to his normal self. His tattoos settled, their golden strands returning to subtle flickers. A nearly imperceptible smirk appeared , the one only those close to him could recognize.
Kazeem suddenly shivered.
He knew that face. His dad was up to no good when he wore it.
He picked up his pace, eager to reach Yassena before his father could do anything.
Seeing his son nearly jogging away, Zokou’s smirk widened — but only briefly. A hint of worry replaced it before he shouted:
“HEY, SON!”
“YEAHH?” Kazeem shouted back.
“DO IT RIGHT OR…?”
“DON’T DO IT AT ALL!” Kazeem responded by reflex. Then he smiled.
Laughter from father and son echoed through the silent streets of Azuma, cutting through the lingering heaviness of the evening.
That night would later become the source of many horror stories — in the town and in the neighboring cities.
Closing thought:
Strength wasn’t taught through comfort, only through what you survived.

