Affected by the injuries of the two police officers, Old John was noticeably down for a while after returning from the hospital visits.
Later, Mike—who had been unconscious—finally woke up, and the policewoman Sharon also made a full recovery and was discharged. With his worries lifted, and with his little granddaughter at home being so adorable, Old John finally pulled himself together again.
He resumed work on his underground shelter.
Old John’s gas station was located in a very remote area. It sat east of the Iramore Mountains—a massive range running north to south. Moist air from the western Pacific was blocked by the high peaks as it passed through, leaving the western side warm, humid, and lush with vegetation, while the eastern side remained arid year-round, nothing but bare rock and desert as far as the eye could see.
Being far from populated areas and inconvenient to travel to meant that people’s needs were compressed to a minimum. Aside from food and clothing, there was almost nowhere to spend money. Even with an extra mouth to feed—Everly—the cost of living didn’t increase by much.
As for income, the gas station and small convenience store barely turned a profit; the real bulk came from Old John’s pension. As a retired police detective, he received a little over 2,000 U.S. dollars each month, totaling about 24,000 dollars a year. In that era, even a middle-class family earned only around 30,000 dollars annually, so Old John’s income was actually quite substantial.
Earning more and spending less, his savings gradually grew comfortable again.
Americans weren’t known for having a habit of saving—once they had money, they wanted to spend it.
Each month, Old John set aside 500 dollars from his pension to buy a trust for Everly. All the rest went into supplies for the shelter: stockpiles of food and medicine, cold-weather clothing, some melee weapons, air-filtration equipment, backup generators, sewage recycling systems… He stubbornly believed that the end of the world would come sooner or later, and that a fully equipped underground shelter was the best gift he could give a child.
Under his day-by-day reinforcement and upgrades, the once crude shelter became increasingly complete. At the same time, the storeroom filled up with more and more supplies, growing ever more comprehensive in variety.
And Everly, too, was growing up.
Old John’s boundless love and meticulous care nurtured her like a young seedling just breaking through the soil, greedily absorbing sunlight and rain, growing stronger by the day.
At eight months old, Everly conquered her stubborn little tongue for the first time and successfully said, “Grandpa.”
By ten months, with her legs gradually gaining strength, Everly stood up and began trying to walk.
Around her first birthday, she could walk on her own, wobbling a few meters at a time.
By the age of one and a half, the prodigy baby Everly had fully revealed her remarkable language talent, able to carry on fluent conversations with Old John using everyday phrases—though this was partly because she deliberately held back, worried about startling him. In fact, by age one, a baby’s tongue muscles are already fully developed, capable of supporting normal speech.
At first, Old John was a little shocked, but as he recalled all the clever things Everly had done as an infant, he quickly relaxed.
He had always been prejudiced against Shelly, thinking of him as a fool who used a handsome face to trick women’s hearts (→ a judgment Everly found spot-on). He had even worried that Everly might grow up as foolish as her biological father. Fortunately, his little granddaughter had a keen eye for genes: she inherited her father’s looks, but her mind carried the sharp intelligence and alertness characteristic of the Breton family—perhaps even surpassing them.
Look at her, such a cute and outstanding child… bearing the surname Minas after Shelly, really gives him some credit!
Her improved language skills freed Everly from the limitations she had faced before. She could express her needs smoothly—what she wanted to eat, where she wanted to go, what she wanted to buy… and Old John almost always fulfilled her wishes. Even though many popular external forms of entertainment were unavailable there, Everly still enjoyed herself every day.
From seven months to six years old, she lived through an unimaginably peaceful time.
Everly attributed it all to how remote this place was. Being far from big cities, with so few people passing through, crime rates here were astonishingly low. No matter how chaotic the outside world was—today a school shooting, tomorrow a family mass*cre—Everly’s memory held that, since the end of the serial kidnapping and murder cases, nothing particularly serious had happened near the gas station.
Of course, minor “incidents” still occurred. For example, when she was three, a debt-avoiding gambler drove through, saw only an old man and a little girl at the station, and got malicious ideas. In the middle of the night, he tried to break in and steal.
By then, Old John was already busy reinforcing the underground shelter, so the above-ground living area naturally received upgrades too—after all, there was an elevator in the house leading down to the shelter.
The two-story building looked ordinary from the outside but had a very high defense level. The door was solid wood with steel inserts, fitted with a composite lock core that a non-professional couldn’t pick. Every window was made of bulletproof glass and locked from the inside at night.
The gambler circled the ground floor, found no way in, and decided to try his luck on the second floor. Using protrusions on the building, he heaved himself up onto the open balcony. The moment his foot touched the floor, he stepped into a bear trap set there.
He fought with all his strength, barely stifling the scream that surged up his throat.
Then, when he looked up, the back of his head felt the cold hardness of a gun barrel.
Old John had been waiting right behind him all along.
The gambler should have felt lucky—at that time, Old John was busy upgrading the shelter’s ventilation system and had no time to deal with human corpses. Otherwise, under U.S. law in this world, someone like him, carrying a weapon and illegally entering another’s home, would be well within his rights to “catch a bullet.”
The gambler was soon arrested by the police who arrived on the scene.
He was a total pauper. His car was stolen, and inside it, besides some illegal dr*gs, there was only a starving, skin-and-bones puppy—his entire worldly possessions.
Old John took in the little puppy.
The puppy was short and sturdy, with a solid, stocky build and a round, tiger-like head. Its coat was a mix of red and white, giving it the look of a cross between a pit bull and some kind of medium-sized dog. Being very young, it only took a few days of feeding before the puppy became attached and recognized Old John as its owner.
Pit bulls are bulldog-type dogs with somewhat aggressive temperaments. When exposed to loud noises, bright lights, pain, or anxiety, they can develop strong aggressive impulses—sometimes even biting their owners. For this reason, at first, Old John didn’t allow the puppy near Everly. He fenced off an area around the gas station and began training the dog, which he named “Buddy.”
But Buddy quickly surprised him.
As a mixed-breed, he inherited the pit bull’s strong physique and courageous, combative spirit, but he also had a temperament far more stable than a typical pit bull. Intelligent, quick-witted, patient, and loyal, Buddy never turned his sharp teeth on his owner, no matter what stimulus he experienced.
After some time of training, Old John finally felt confident enough to let the puppy stay close.
Buddy did not betray his owner’s trust. He became an excellent companion dog—playful, affectionate, gentle. Even if Everly accidentally stepped on his tail, he would only let out a pitiful whine for a moment. Once the pain passed, he would immediately return to her side, affectionately licking her hands with his warm, thick tongue.
Yet when it came to outsiders, he transformed into a fierce and reliable guard dog. Old John moved the fence to the front of the house, creating a yard. Outside the fence, passersby could freely move about the gas station and convenience store, fueling up and shopping. But if anyone tried to cross into Everly and Old John’s private space, Buddy would instantly change. Lying low to the ground, he would unleash a relentless bark and courageously charge at the intruder, using his remarkably strong bite—even though he was still a small puppy whose height barely reached the knees, he feared no human larger or stronger than himself.
Old John was very pleased with Buddy, and Everly loved the little dog as well.
Buddy became the third member of their little household.
His presence greatly increased the gas station’s security—well, at least the apparent, visible security.
While still a puppy, his main role was to serve as an early warning system. Once Buddy grew to adulthood, his back would rise, shoulders broaden, and the muscles of his forelimbs would develop powerful, defined curves. He would transform into a true guard dog, a strong deterrent to any ill-intentioned intruder.
Thanks to Buddy, the gas station enjoyed long stretches of peace, with no petty criminals daring to cause trouble. Even the delinquent teenagers from Lemot Town—who treated theft as a point of pride and adventure—hesitated to try anything once they entered the convenience store.
Time flew by in a blur of running and playful laughter.
Before they knew it, Everly was six years old.
From the time her grandfather took her in until she turned six, Everly’s biological father, Shelly, never once came to see his child—and rarely even called. Old John disliked Shelly too much to check up on him, so Everly only had a rough idea: apparently, the series of paintings Shelly created based on the legend of the Banshee in Pukati had actually become a hit, earning him a tidy sum.
With money in hand, Shelly could no longer tolerate the quiet, monastery-like life of Pukati and moved to a big city, living in a luxury house and hiring a young, beautiful assistant. Everly, meanwhile, completely lost contact with the Banshee; all she could do was guess, based on the faded color of the eye she held, that the creature still had not awakened.
Incidentally, despite making a fortune, Shelly never gave Everly a penny in child support. The heartless father had long since forgotten both Everly and her mother, who had died young. Occasionally, when drunk, he would call Everly, sobbing and speaking about his late wife Rachel, wallowing in the “loving father” image he had constructed for himself, lost in self-pity and unable to break free…
What a heartless scumbag.
Even with money, Shelly never thought to bring his daughter home, and luckily, Old John had no intention of being separated from his granddaughter. As for Everly, the choice couldn’t be more obvious: a rich but immoral father, or a grandfather who genuinely cared for and loved her. She decided that, at least until she could solve the Banshee problem, she would stay with her grandfather.
At six, Everly was due to start elementary school.
In this life’s version of the U.S., there was a twelve-year compulsory education system. The exact age for enrollment was determined by state law. In Dwight State, where Everly lived, children were required to start school at age six, with mandatory education continuing until age eighteen.
Most schools in the state followed a “6-3-3” system: six years of elementary school, three years of middle school, and three years of high school. By the time students graduated from high school, compulsory education would be complete.
Before entering elementary school, there were actually daycare centers, kindergartens, and preschool programs that taught letters, numbers, general knowledge, and social skills to prepare children for school. Many parents enrolled their children in these programs. Old John had originally planned to do the same for Everly—after all, other children were attending, and he had the money, so why not?
But Everly refused.
First, with the memories of an adult, there was nothing she could actually learn in preschool, making it a waste of time and money. Second, their home was so remote that all preschool programs were in the city of Micano. Sending her there would mean Old John would have to leave early and return late every day, spending hours on the road unnecessarily.
“But if you don’t go to preschool, you’ll miss the opportunity. What if you can’t make friends later?” Old John fretted.
“Will I?” Everly poked her cheek and tilted her head adorably.
Old John looked at his little granddaughter’s chubby, rosy cheeks that still carried the remnants of baby fat, her sparkling blue eyes, and her silky, golden hair… She had inherited every bit of Shelly’s good looks—completely, without a flaw—and was truly an angelic child.
Even as a child, she already had a basic sense of beauty and aesthetics. With a face that cute and a personality that wasn’t dull or shy, Old John knew from experience that a girl like Everly could never be isolated at school. On the contrary, she would naturally draw attention and admiration from everyone around her.
With that final worry put to rest, Old John decided not to send Everly to preschool.
Still, once Everly turned six, she obeyed the law and dutifully started elementary school.