109. Memories and Homeland

The sun set, the night descended, and the bright yellow bonfire bathed the small courtyard in its glow.

Four people sat in a circle around the grill, enjoying roasted meat, beer, and fruit juice.

"Haven't seen you in over half a year, and you've grown quite a bit taller and sturdier." Paqui picked up a bloody rib with both hands, tore into it, and chewed vigorously, his mouth glistening with grease. "Your strength is shockingly high, and your wrestling technique hasn't slipped, either. You’re truly a descendant of our Glen family."

"This kid’s capabilities go far beyond that." Jacob took a sip of his beer, his eyes sharpening behind his thick beard. "He’s turned the Andre combat range into his own backyard, going there to practice for hours every single day."

"A normal person would have wrecked their wrists long ago, but he’s perfectly fine. His marksmanship is improving at a terrifying speed—pistols, rifles, sniper rifles, he’s mastered them all. According to Andre, you could put a steel helmet on him and send him straight to the battlefield."

Dean glanced at the bearded man cautiously; he looked kind and harmless, but he was a spy.

"What’s so strange about that?" Paqui raised his thick eyebrows, his voice filled with pride. "We Glen family members are natural warriors. In any field related to combat, we are geniuses."

"Dean used to inherit his father’s weak nature; he was like a glass bottle, shattering at the slightest touch, always hiding in his room crying."

Paqui slapped Dean’s shoulder with a greasy hand and gave him an appreciative look. "Now you’ve grown up. Finally, you look like a real man!"

Dean chewed his meat and smiled; Paqui’s open-mindedness saved him the trouble of explaining.

"Keep up the shooting and combat training. This world is filled with deep malice toward our kind. Many white-skinned people may not say it out loud, but in their hearts, they wish for us all to be wiped out—Jacob and Tonya excluded, of course."

Paqui narrowed his eyes, the bonfire making his tense face look incredibly serious, like someone suffering from deep-seated paranoia. "In this world, the law of the jungle is the only truth. If you don't actively seek improvement, you will surely be eliminated."

Dean nodded in deep agreement; after all, his predecessor had been eliminated.

"Enough, Paqui. Stop spreading such extreme ideas; you’ll corrupt Dean." Tonya made the sign of the cross over her chest. "This poor child has already been hospitalized twice in the last six months. Don't teach him any more about killing and fighting."

"Don't worry, my injuries healed long ago." He flexed his solid biceps for the three of them. "I’m healthier and stronger than ninety-nine percent of men. You just saw that for yourself, Paqui."

"No matter how strong you are, you’re still made of flesh and blood. One slip and you’ll be riddled with bullets like a sieve. Besides, you, the savior of Lake Mead, are far too fond of playing the hero." Paqui downed some beer and spoke to Dean in an authoritative tone. "To prevent any sudden accidents that might leave the Glen family without an heir, you must take advantage of your youth to date several girls and have a few children. Start with that dark-haired girl who’s been looking for you lately. She’s a police officer’s daughter, right? She’s healthy, and the offspring would surely be strong."

The dark-haired girl... Gretchen?

Dean froze, his mouth hanging open to reveal his white teeth, and the remaining half of his beef fell to the ground.

"Where did you hear that?"

Paqui smiled without answering. The bearded man raised his left hand and waved it cautiously. "Out of concern, I asked an old friend to keep an eye on things. I didn't expect a yellow-skinned kid like you to be quite so popular."

Dean laughed and countered, "I’m not even twenty yet; there’s no rush. You, on the other hand, are over forty and still single. This is a serious violation of the Glen family tradition. You must find me an aunt by the end of this year, and I want to see at least two cousins by next winter."

"Watch your mouth!" Paqui’s bull-like eyes widened, and his knuckles cracked. "Dare to rush your uncle into marriage? Looking for a beating again?"

"Didn't you get thrown enough just now?" Dean flashed a provocative, toothy grin.

"Dean is right," Jacob suddenly changed sides. "He’s young; he has more than a decade to play around, but you—you don't have much time left to ‘get it on’."

"Dean hasn't asked us for living expenses in the past six months; he’s grown up. You should worry about yourself." Tonya kept her kind, "I'm doing this for your own good" expression and delivered a sharp, caring blow. "You’ve been running around for twenty years; aren't you tired of fast food and cold leftovers? Settle down and find a partner to spend the rest of your life with."

Dean watched with interest as his uncle’s face turned from red to black. He opened a can of juice and toasted the two wingmen.

Paqui rested his chin on his right fist, breathing heavily, staring angrily into the bonfire. After a long while, he let out a long sigh. "You think I don't want to? But I’m old, I have a foul temper, I don't have much money, and I’m a native. How can I easily find a wife?"

"Not enough money? That’s no problem." Jacob patted his chest. "Tonya and I have savings; we can support you."

"Save it for your own retirement. I’ll take a few more missions, yeah, just a few..."

"Stop risking your life," Jacob glanced at his waist. "Being a private bodyguard isn't easy these days; nobody hires one unless there's a real threat to their life. Your back injury is acting up again, isn't it?"

"By the way, how many guys have died in the last six months?"

Paqui silently threw a few branches into the fire, a trace of delicate sadness appearing on his rugged face. "Three."

Dean felt a chill in his heart. What kind of bodyguard work was that dangerous?

Paqui continued, "I can't help it. Other than being a bodyguard, I don't know how to do anything else. If I don't do this, what am I supposed to do, kneel on the street as a beggar? But I’ve always been lucky; I know how to protect myself."

As they spoke of Paqui’s work, the warm atmosphere of the gathering turned somber and oppressive. A faint sadness rippled through the air. Jacob, Paqui, and Tonya, three middle-aged and elderly people whose combined age reached one hundred and forty, stared at the sparks bursting from the fire, speechless.

"Stop doing bodyguard work. You’re getting on in years and full of injuries; it’s time to retire and enjoy life." Dean broke the silence. He looked into those black eyes that were identical to his own and said in an unmistakable tone, "Listen to me, Paqui. Pick a big house in Las Vegas, move in to retire, and find a wife. I’ll pay for it."

"I’ve been volunteering for the LVPD for the past six months and have picked up some private investigator gigs. Maybe I have a knack for it; I’ve earned quite a bit of money."

*Silly uncle of my predecessor, I won’t let you set a death flag in front of me.*

Paqui’s expression stiffened. For a moment, his eyes turned slightly red, then he waved his hand in front of him and laughed, scolding, "You little brat, has the heat from the grill burned your brain? Since when are you babbling nonsense? Even if you sold yourself, you couldn't afford a big house."

"Don't discourage your nephew’s initiative like that." Jacob looked at Dean with increasing gentleness, feeling deeply comforted. "At least he has more conscience than those peers who only know how to eat, drink, play, and ask for money."

Paqui took a sip of his beer and looked at his nephew, smiling dismissively. "How much did you earn? Is it enough for this year’s living expenses?"

"How much doesn't matter, you can start with a small goal," Tonya and Jacob encouraged him before he could answer. "For example, try earning ten thousand dollars this year."

Dean’s gaze swept across the three of them, his eyes brightening like daylight. "Actually, I didn't earn much. Just about a hundred thousand."

*A hundred thousand...*

The calm voice drifted through the cold wind, across the courtyard enveloped by the winter night and the bonfire. The three middle-aged people in the yard stared blankly, frozen in place.

...

The sky was dim with neither stars nor moon tonight, and the bonfire in the yard had quietly extinguished. The area by the grill was silent.

In the brightly lit hall of the white-roofed house, four people sat around the sofa.

Tonya adjusted her reading glasses, put down the contract in her hand, and looked at her old partner, who was peering over with a tense face.

"Dean isn't lying. Congratulations, Paqui. Your family has produced a master investigator."

"He got ten thousand dollars from a single contract."

Paqui looked at Dean, his dark eyes filled with a strange, scrutinizing gaze, as if seeing this nephew for the first time. "I’ve taken care of you for seven or eight years, how come I never knew you could make a living as a detective?"

Tonya, sitting next to him, shot the big man a look of annoyance. "You took care of Dean? How did you take care of him? You left him at school day and night, just sending some living expenses every month, busy with your own work, disappearing for ten days or half a month at a time—especially in the last two years, often not coming home for months."

"You never cared about what Dean’s hobbies or troubles were." Tonya scolded him without hesitation. "That’s not taking care of him; that’s letting him fend for himself. You don't understand this child at all... Don't argue! Otherwise, tell me, what does your nephew like to eat most?"

"Uh..."

Paqui suddenly choked. His rugged face turned visibly red and swollen, as if he’d been slapped.

"The child has grown up and matured, finding work he excels at... You should congratulate him and celebrate for him," Tonya taught Paqui like a student, "instead of blindly questioning and criticizing!"

Dean obediently served his aunt a cup of hot water. Paqui’s face cycled between black and red, his mouth moving several times, but he couldn't make a sound. After a moment, he squeezed out a shameful smile.

"Fine, congratulations, Dean! I shouldn't have doubted you."

"But in my impression, a private investigator only makes about twenty thousand a year, how could you make a hundred thousand?" His eyes shone with complex light, and he lamented with a touch of unwillingness, "I risk getting my head blown off, working through the night, only to make thirty or forty thousand a year, and that includes medical expenses..."

"Don't you understand yet? We’re all old antiques who can't keep up with the times. Our outdated perspective can't see through current developments." Jacob put his arm around Paqui’s shoulder and leaned back on the sofa, his eyes deep behind his beard like a philosopher.

"Alright, I’ve proven my earning capacity," Dean put away the contract, full of confidence. "Now, Paqui, pick a house in Las Vegas that you like, and I’ll pay for it."

This time, no one questioned his ability. In this era, a normal house in the city could be had for fifty or sixty thousand dollars.

Paqui opened his mouth and remained silent for a long time, his complicated feelings impossible to express. For a moment, they seemed to be at a loss for words.

"Paqui, ever since Lena and Glen went missing, you’ve been the one taking care of me." Dean paced around the hall, his voice warm but full of strength. "If it weren't for a burden like me, you should have settled down long ago with a wife and children."

The lingering emotions made a desire well up in Dean’s heart. He had occupied his predecessor’s body and controlled his soul as a superpower. Helping his predecessor’s family improve their lives was justifiable by both emotion and reason. Besides, once he helped Paqui, he could get the man to cooperate with him in processing gold bars to purchase high-powered weapons at the firing range.

"In our hometown, there’s an old saying: a drop of water in need shall be returned with a fountain of thanks." He looked at the flustered man. "You’ve taken care of me for so many years and raised me. It’s my turn to repay you, Uncle."

His emotionally rich voice echoed in the living room, quietly melting the ice in their hearts.

The big man was stunned for a moment, then suddenly turned his head to rub the corner of his eye.

*Fine, no matter how much his personality changes, Dean is still family.*

"When did this brat become so sentimental? Did having a girlfriend change him this much?"

"Don't be stubborn!" The bearded man looked at Paqui, then at Dean, envy flashing in his eyes. "With such a great nephew, why are you still working as a bodyguard? Just retire and enjoy life!"

"When you buy the house, don't forget to invite your old friends over!" Tonya smiled sincerely, though her eyes were slightly red.

"The brat made a lot of money and is willing to help out his useless uncle; I’m very happy to accept." Paqui looked at Dean, finally relaxing from his previously tense state with a relieved smile. "But I’ve spent most of my life running around. I haven't spent much time in Las Vegas. Ever since Lena and Glen disappeared, my attachment to Las Vegas has faded. The only thing I care about is this nephew."

He smiled at Dean. "I’ve had enough of the rush and noise of the big city, the hollowness beneath the prosperity, and those racists. If I’m going to buy a house and settle down, I have to choose a place with deeper bonds."

*Leave Las Vegas?*

Dean bared his teeth; he hadn't expected to guess his uncle’s intentions wrong from the start.

"You want to go back home?" Jacob’s eyes suddenly lit up.

Paqui nodded, rubbing the dreamcatcher tattoo on his neck, and gave a self-deprecating smile. "In my teens, Lena and I left home without looking back, determined never to return, but I couldn't help sneaking back many times along the way. It’s always been there; it’s just changed quite a bit."

"Twenty-some years have passed. Recently, I’ve missed that place where I was born and raised more and more."

"I even dream about the high school basketball court where I had a few fights." He closed his eyes longingly, a smile appearing on his lips. "That is where I belong. I want to go back and see my old classmates and the buildings in my memory, then buy a quiet house in the suburbs. It would have natural lawns everywhere where I can walk the dog anytime, it’s close to the forest with fresh air, I can pick up a gun and go hunting, a stream would babble by, and if the mood strikes, I can go fishing."

"Dean, my good nephew, are you willing to help me?"

Paqui was nervous yet expectant, but he saw the other man nod heavily.

"Settling back in your hometown and returning to your roots is a very traditional practice. I understand and support you one hundred percent."

Dean paused, staring at him solemnly. "Once you go back, don't try to save money for me. Pick a good house—one that is sturdy and spacious enough to hold your future wife, children, your brothers and friends, and me."

"Once you pick it out, I’ll check it myself. If it’s not up to standard, don't blame me for building you a new one on the spot."

Paqui breathed a sigh of relief. Jacob and Tonya were happy for him, too, hooking their arms through his muscular ones.

"Make the house clean; we’ll come over to join the fun then."

"Always welcome," Paqui had already started imagining a beautiful future, his smile wide. "I’ll prepare a full set of barbecue equipment for you in advance."

"Hey, hey, my dear uncle, shouldn't you tell me something first?" Dean put his hands on his hips. "I’ve only known since I was a child that you and Lena were from Indiana, but I haven't the slightest idea where exactly."

"Don't blame your mother; she just didn't have time to tell you the answer... It’s not too late to say it now." A flash of melancholy passed through Paqui’s eyes. "Well, our hometown is a beautiful small town in Indiana called Hawkins."

"It has four distinct seasons, unlike Las Vegas, which is full of dry desert and a sun that peels your skin."

*Indiana, Hawkins?*

Dean’s temple throbbed. He had no impression of this place. In fact, his knowledge of most American cities was extremely limited.

"The town has a high school, a hospital, and a full range of shops. The traffic is convenient, and the cost of living isn't high." Paqui spoke highly of it. "Plus, the people are simple and kind."

"You describe Hawkins so well, so why did you and Lena leave in the first place?" Dean asked, puzzled.

Paqui’s expression darkened. "At that time, your grandmother had just passed away. We were too heartbroken, so we sold the house to the government. Later, some Department of Energy was built near the house."

"Your mother and I took the money from the house sale and came to Las Vegas to strike it rich."

"Who hasn't been rebellious or impulsive in their youth?" He sighed and looked at Dean, recalling, "Your parents loved to travel. After they had you, they kept that habit. Every year, they would drive through Hawkins for a few days, then continue traveling east or west for a week or two, and I would help look after you."

"Eight years ago, the summer you were ten, they were on their way to travel to the East Coast, and they never returned."

"Where exactly did they go missing?" Dean’s expression shifted, and he sat up straight. "Hawkins, Indiana? Or somewhere else?"

...

In the night, if someone had quietly approached this two-story building and peered through the window of the courtyard, they would have seen, by the bright light, a burly, yellow-skinned man telling a story of the past with great emotion, occasionally shaking his ponytail in excitement or sighing and covering his face.

A young man, a bearded man, and a thin, middle-aged woman listened intently.

Until the dead of night.