Some people say... this place is the lighthouse of the world. Countless "success stories" fight tooth and nail just to get a foot in the door here.
But I never saw it that way. How can a lighthouse have streets overflowing with homeless people?
Of course, I don't look down on them. On the contrary, I'm grateful our "lighthouse" tolerates their existence, because I'm one of them.
"Old Nick! I'm back!"
A white boy, roughly fifteen years old, made a show of knocking on the flap of a roadside tent before quickly ducking inside.
"Slow down, Lucian."
"Old Nick" was a middle-aged Black man. Seeing the boy enter, he braced himself against the ground to shimmy over and make some room.
The tent was home to a single lightbulb, a tangle of stray wires, and a battery that didn't look like it had much fight left in it.
Lucian peeked suspiciously out of the tent flap. After confirming no "peers" were nearby, he zipped the door shut and reached into the inner lining of his coat, which was relatively clean, despite being more patch than fabric, with a mysterious air.
"Old Nick, the shop cashed out a loaf of bread at a discount."
Lowering his voice, he handed the oat bread to Old Nick, who was busy tinkering with something.
"Oh... thank you. I didn't think I'd see a second meal today."
Old Nick wiped his calloused hands on his grimy clothes before taking the bread. He stared at the white, unblemished loaf for a long moment, then tore off a small piece and handed the rest back.
"Keep the rest for breakfast tomorrow. You've got work, after all."
Lucian knew how stubborn Old Nick could be. He didn't argue; he just took the bread and tucked it away.
"It's late. Get some sleep."
"Yeah... goodnight."
Old Nick fumbled with the wires for a second. The bulb flickered out, and the tent returned to darkness.
"Oh, by the way, Lucian. Be careful on your way to work. The old guy next door said on his radio that some prehistoric creatures... Dino-somethings... have broken loose."
"They're called dinosaurs. I saw the news at work today."
"Good to know."
…
The morning sun spilled across the earth, filtering through the thin, translucent fabric of the tent.
Lucian didn't head out immediately. Instead, he pulled back a corner of the flap to scout the area. A small, dark-brown bird, of a species he couldn't name, landed on the clearing in front of the tent. Lucian's eyes lit up.
He turned to Old Nick, pressed a finger to his lips in a "shhh" gesture, and stayed low to the ground, preparing to catch a little extra protein for breakfast.
"Don't."
Old Nick had noticed the bird outside and, realizing what Lucian was up to, immediately grabbed his arm. The bird, startled by the movement, took flight instantly.
Lucian watched it disappear, then looked back at Old Nick with a dejected expression that clearly asked, Why?
"Birds bring good luck."
…
"Lucian? Step into my office."
"Yes, sir!"
Lucian was about to toss the kitchen trash when the boss called his name. He dropped the bags and hurried toward the office.
Click.
As the wooden door closed, Lucian stood straight, feeling a flicker of anxiety as he waited for his employer to speak.
"Are you interested in making a little extra cash on the side?"
"What?"
The sudden shift in topic caught Lucian off guard. He had expected a lecture on his performance.
"Ahem... I know you're a sharp kid. Lately, some... unique animals have been popping up in the world. If you're lucky enough to find one or two..."
He mysteriously slid a business card into Lucian's hand.
"Take them to the specialized department for 'release.' There's a bounty in it for you."
Even as he walked out the back door with the trash bags, Lucian couldn't stop staring at the card, his mind swirling with indecision. He tossed a bag into the dumpster in the alley, but as it landed, a sharp "Squeak!" erupted from inside.
It didn't sound like a cat or a dog. It certainly wasn't a rat.
Lucian turned back and saw a small, lizard-like silhouette standing on the edge of the dumpster. It seemed to have been lured in by the scent of food. Lucian froze for a second, then reached into his coat and pulled out his piece of bread, showing it to the creature.
"Want some?"
The Coelophysis seemed curious. It edged forward, step by step, and then—
"Chirp! Chirp! Screee!"
Lucian snatched the Coelophysis by the neck. Glancing around to ensure the coast was clear, he ripped a strip of cloth from a nearby bin and bundled the little creature up until it looked like a lizard-mummy.
He quickly checked the address on the business card.
"I need to ask the boss for some time off... and then... and then..."
…
The moon climbed high above the skyscrapers. Lucian hummed a little tune as he skipped back toward the "tent city" by the road, a stark contrast to the listless crowd around him.
"Old Nick, I'm back. The bird really did bring me luck today."
"Is that so? Congratulations."
Old Nick didn't ask for details; he just kept fiddling with the wires in his hands.
"Thanks. Also... I found another job. I might be coming back even later from now on."
"Stay safe. In that case... should we turn in early tonight?"
"Sure~"
Their conversation was brief, a habit born of the need to conserve energy.
…
In the haze of sleep, Lucian felt someone approaching.
The next instant, a cold blade was pressed against his throat. A muffled, shaky voice spoke.
"Mugged..."
"Anthony?! Why are you—"
"I don't want to hurt you! Give me your stuff!"
Lucian recognized his neighbor immediately. Anthony was usually friendly to them.
"Blame yourself... blame yourself for being so damn happy today," Anthony muttered, his hand gripping the knife trembling uncontrollably.
Click.
Something hard pressed into Anthony's back. Coupled with that distinct, metallic snap, Anthony, who had spent his life scraping by in the underbelly of society, knew exactly what it was.
"How about you put the knife down first?" Old Nick's voice was flat, devoid of emotion.
"Old Nick?! You... you have a—"
"Be a good boy. Let's go outside and chat."
Anthony raised his hands and walked out of the tent. Old Nick followed, bracing himself on a crutch with one hand while holding a "street sweeper" fitted with a homemade silencer in the other. He left Lucian sitting there, stunned.
"Where... where are you taking me?"
"Let's go to that alley over there."
Old Nick's voice was steady, the voice of a man familiar with the weight of a threat. Anthony, however, was losing it; he realized the old man was picking a spot where body disposal wouldn't even be an issue!
"No, no, no! You can't do this! I gave you bread before! Don't you remember?!"
Old Nick didn't answer. He gave the man a sharp jab in the small of the back with the barrel, making him jump.
"I... I have a mother to support! Yeah! I only did this for her! You know how sick she is! You know I'd do anything for her! Just like you broke your leg for that white kid, I—"
The barrel pressed into Anthony's back again. Old Nick seemed to recall something, his voice drifting into a hollow whisper.
"Your mother? Yeah... I remember her. I remember how 'sick' she was. I even lent her money once. You want to know what happened?"
The barrel moved to the base of Anthony's skull.
"She spent every cent on that damn powder."
Ten minutes later, Old Nick returned to the tent. He zipped the flap and looked at Lucian's questioning eyes.
"He's decided to turn over a new leaf."
…
The second day passed, then the third, then the fourth...
The sun rose as usual. For Lucian, it just meant one more job to do tomorrow.
"Holy crap! You're getting efficient!"
"It's alright. Just trying to save up a bit."
Lucian seemed remarkably well-acquainted with the black-market dealer. They bypassed the usual formalities, dealing face-to-face, a testament to Lucian's reputation in this shop.
"This is just a hatchling... you haven't started a secret breeding farm, have you?"
"Where would I get that kind of money? I just couldn't find its parents."
"Haha, just kidding. Pleasure doing business."
"Likewise."
…
Beside a small roadside shop, Lucian stood next to a well-dressed man.
"Congratulations, Mr. Lucian. This shop is yours. From now on, you only need to pay me ten percent of the deposit each month."
Lucian took the contract, his hands shaking.
"I'm sorry... could you excuse me for a moment?"
"Of course. It's your shop now."
The man was gracious. Lucian didn't hesitate; he sprinted toward the spot he and Old Nick called home.
"Old Nick! We have a home!"
He reached the tent and ripped open the flap, his voice bursting with joy.
"Old Nick! We have a home! We have—"
The words died in his throat.
Old Nick was lying in his sleeping bag, wrapped in a thin blanket. Three green Coelophysis sat around him like guardian gargoyles. When they saw Lucian, they merely tilted their heads, watching him without a hint of fear.
Sunlight lanced through the gaps in the tent, and Lucian could clearly see blood dripping from their muzzles. They chirped and squeaked. One of the dinosaurs leaned down, its body twitching rapidly as it tore a piece of flesh from Old Nick.
Lucian lunged forward, screaming as he tried to drive the lizards away. The Coelophysis darted out of reach, escaping through a jagged hole they had torn in the back of the tent.
Before Lucian could even fully enter the tent, he saw Old Nick's mangled face. There was no doubt; he was gone.
The Coelophysis scurried into the alley, chirping as they went. They left behind a trail of bloody, three-toed footprints.
Just like a bird.