Chapter 305: If Your World Falls Apart, I’d Start A Riot

[FROLO]

The Western Nursing Home, two hundred miles off Frolo, was somewhere between quiet and chaotic. Just like it had been every day.

The elderly were playing cards, some throwing things around, while others stared at the emptiness. Others watched television as football played on one channel and cartoons on the other. It was a whole other universe in here.

At the reception, the phone kept ringing, and the receptionist looked like she was only receiving it because it was her job and she didn’t need to get fired today, of all days.

"Sir. As I’ve told you the past twelve times. We do not have an Elara or a Rastenkin here. You need to stop calling because you’re blocking other calls," the tired receptionist said.

Her colleagues who were scattered across the huge room stared at her sadly as if they knew that callers were always the worst.

It wasn’t that hard, really, because no one in this nursing home had that name.

"Sir, our patients are all aged between eighty and ninety-nine. You need to call other nursing homes," the receptionist insisted.

"There is no shopkeeper here," the receptionist sighed.

Thankfully, the manager saw how stressed she was and took the phone from her.

"Sir, we have other things to work on. Please refrain from calling," the manager insisted.

Before turning to her staff:

"Were we expecting any family-related calls this week?"

They all shook their heads.

"Sir, please stop making up names. We told you, there is no Elara, Rastenkin, or even a shopkeeper here. And I know there is certainly no one here by the name Myrtle. You nee—" the manager said right as someone grabbed the phone from her hand.

"The shop was never to be opened, Volkov. You know why... WHAT?... Alright, we’re on our way..." the person who had grabbed the phone said boredly into it while the staff in the nursing home stared at each other, too shocked to even say a word.

Meanwhile, the call continued.

"What’s the status?... Now why the fuck would anyone in their right mind trigger that shit... Alright, alright. Fuck... On a scale of h—... Holy shit... The bikes are still in the shop..."

"What are you doing?" the manager screeched, but the person ignored her.

Still keeping the call going.

"Okay, three hours is enough for us to be ready... Volkov... How’s the boy?... Fuck, my sister really tried... see you in a bit," the person said before hanging up.

Only to turn to the staff and everyone else who was lucid enough, and find them staring as a miracle had happened.

"So uhh... Hi guys."

"Miss Lucia, you can walk?"

"Are you even ninety-three?"

"I literally cleaned your drool this morning?"

"Do you even have Alzheimer’s?"

Meanwhile, as ninety-three-year-old Miss Lucia, who was supposed to be confined to a wheelchair and have Alzheimer’s, just smiled at the manager and the rest of the staff...

A few more miracles happened.

Old Reeves, who had been brought here ten years ago, stood up to stretch, pulling his hair off, only to find that it wasn’t even his real hair. It was a damn wig. But that wasn’t all, because there was more than just facial prosthetics at work here.

Meera, who was a staff member standing guard at the door, walked to the manager, pulled her ID badge off her shirt, and handed it to the manager.

"I quit. Thank you for having me," the manager didn’t even know what to say. Because now she was stuck staring at people who were not what they seemed to be.

"Rastenkin, seriously?" the woman, Miss Lucia, said as she looked at the middle table where old men were playing card games. Others were doodling while others were painting. It was a wholesome sight for the old people, but were they that old?

"Jeez, Elara, what got your panties in a twist? I’m close to winning!" one of the old men said as he glared at the woman, Elara.

"You’re winning against old schizophrenic patients, you stupid tart!" Elara said, and Rastenkin huffed at her.

"I am schizophrenic too!"

"If you don’t get the fuck up, I’ll tell Anya about Norilsk," Elara said as Reeves walked over to them, staring at Rastenkin like he couldn’t believe they were doing this again.

"You wouldn’t."

"No, she wouldn’t," Meera said before adding:

"But I’ll remind her about the one time I almost died in your care."

And that got Rastenkin groaning as he got up and abandoned his board game.

"Kids these days are brutal. Let’s get out of here so I can finally kill people again! Being stuck in yellow clothes all day for seven years is not a job I wanna get stuck doing again," Rastenkin said.

The four of them then walked out of the Western Nursing Home like they had not been patients and a guard in there for over five years.

The manager and the staff who were left behind were not even sure what to say about that.

They couldn’t even report it because the patients had been steady and hadn’t given them any problems. Also, the fact that most government resources had been redirected to the Moskowsky safety program was not helping.

"You’ll let them just go?" the receptionist asked, still trying to get over the shock of watching miracles happen to three of their patients. They couldn’t even hold them back because these people were not even old.

As they walked out, they were simply people aged between thirty-five and forty. There was no way they could have been that old, yet for all their stay in here, they’d been the perfect patients. Never drawing attention to themselves at all.

Funny how now they were walking away into a hot zone and didn’t even look fazed by it.

"Mr. Moskowsky is hunting in Frolo. We have to be careful. If those four want to go out there, it isn’t our problem. Start processing discharge and resignation acceptance letters.

"We definitely do not want them back at our facility," the manager said, shaking as she’d just discovered that water was wet.

Beyond the nursing home, the four got into Meera’s van, driving away from one of the most remote places the realm had ever had.

It had been their home for more than five years, and by the looks on their faces, they definitely didn’t appreciate being stuck there for that long.

"What happened, Elara? The call with Mr. Volkov sounded intense," Reeves said, throwing the last of his old-age clothes onto the side of the road as they drove off.

And Elara, she gave them what she had been given. The kind of information that was way too dangerous to be heard by anyone who didn’t have the right skills.

"I wanna be the first to post on the Myrtle account," Meera said suddenly.

"You’re driving. You can’t use the phone while driving," Rastenkin reminded.

And Meera...

She parked on the side of the road.

"Kids these days," Rastenkin huffed again.

"Give it, and look composed. This is our sweet return to the world," Meera said, and Reeves just rolled his eyes at her.

"You do realize Mr. Volkov won’t look at you the way you want him to?"

"Let the girl dream, Reeves. Besides, if my sister were here, you’d be ready to kiss her feet, no?" Elara added.

"Miss Anya has my heart and soul. I would die for her."

"Great, I already posted our first group photo. I hope Mr. Volkov sees how dedicated I am," Meera swooned, and collective groans were heard as they drove into the sunset.

"Man... I’ll miss the grey nut smoothie," Rastenkin said dreamily.

"That shit was disgusting!!"