After the Crow disappeared, having finished its explanation about the Arcana, silence filled the room. Neither Kath nor I spoke for several minutes. My mind was racing, deeply engrossed in the Crow's final revelation—that there were other Arcana scattered across the world. Perhaps they were using their abilities for entirely different purposes. But what weighed on me the most was the Crow's warning about an Arcana hunting others one by one for reasons it couldn't explain.
The thought of such a threat lingered heavily in my mind, and I didn't even notice Kath calling out to me.
"Daniel! Hey, Daniel!" her voice finally pulled me out of my deep thoughts.
"You seemed lost in your own head," Kath remarked, observing me carefully. Then she added with a small smile, "It looks like I don't need to explain anything about the Arcana after all. Your little friend, the Crow, seems to have done all the talking for me."
Her words snapped me back to the present, and I realized how much had been revealed in such a short span of time. Yet, the weight of the Crow's warning still lingered in the back of my mind—one Arcana was hunting us, and I might already be their next target.
Despite the daunting challenges ahead—this new threat of being hunted and the weight of changing the world's system—I knew I had to strengthen my resolve. I had already introduced The Fool to the world, and people were now aware that someone was willing to stand up and fight. Perhaps, if I could find the other Arcana, I could recruit them, just like Kath, and together we could create a more solid and effective plan.
As I was pondering this, the image of the man I met on the bus—Kevin—suddenly crossed my mind. I was certain of what I saw: a tarot card in his hands that looked identical to mine. There was no doubt about it—he was an Arcana too. If I could meet him again, maybe I could convince him to join us.
The thought gave me a strange sense of determination. Every Arcana had a purpose, a reason their abilities had manifested. Perhaps Kevin's power could be the key to furthering my cause. All I needed was another encounter with him.
I mentioned this to Kath, and she was visibly shocked to learn that I had encountered another Arcana. I told her about how that man had helped me and how his ability—seemingly the power to disappear—could be incredibly useful.
However, Kath didn't share my optimism. She gave me a serious look, her eyes filled with concern, and spoke in a firm tone.
"Daniel, you can't trust other Arcana so easily," she warned. "Especially when you don't fully know what their abilities are. For all you know, one of them could be the Arcana that's hunting others."
Her words hit me hard. She was right—this wasn't just about finding allies anymore. Every encounter with another Arcana could also mean coming face-to-face with someone who could be my enemy. The stakes were higher than ever, and I needed to tread carefully.
After my long conversation with Kath, I realized it was already late afternoon. I decided it was time to leave and thanked her for welcoming me into her home, even though I showed up unannounced. She had even prepared food for me, so I left feeling full and without having to worry about what to eat later.
As I walked home, I noticed people starting to put up campaign posters of political candidates everywhere. Their faces were plastered on every available surface—lamp posts, vehicles, store walls, and even on houses. It seemed excessive, especially since the elections were still a long way off.
But that's just how things are here in the Philippines. Over time, these posters will become nothing but litter on the streets, and of course, no one will bother to clean up the mess they create. It's a reflection of the ugly system we're stuck in—one that desperately needs to change.
As I continued walking, I noticed an older man who seemed preoccupied with collecting posters. What caught my attention was that he was taking down only the posters of a specific candidate named Jun Cupad, who was running for mayor, as indicated by the text on the posters.
At first, I thought he might be a supporter of the candidate, meticulously choosing to collect Jun Cupad's posters. But to my surprise, the man moved to the side of the road, gathered the posters in a pile, and set them on fire.
The flames consumed the images of the candidate, and the man stood there, his face etched with anger and disdain as he watched the posters burn. His hatred was palpable, and it made me wonder what Jun Cupad had done to earn such a fiery display of contempt.
Not long after, a group of actual supporters of the candidate arrived and confronted the old man for burning the posters. I noticed that they were carrying stacks of the same posters, clearly planning to put up even more in other locations.
They poured water over the smoldering remains of the posters and angrily scolded the old man. "Why are you burning the face of our future mayor, huh?!" one of the supporters yelled, his voice filled with rage as they tried to drive the old man away.
But the old man showed no fear. Instead, he retaliated, his voice just as loud and filled with anger. "The man you want to become mayor is a demon!" he shouted, his eyes blazing with fury. "That so-called pastor you're supporting is a rapist! A devil! I'm sure the day will come when Heaven itself will punish him!"
His face was a mix of fury and grief, and as he spoke, tears began streaming down his face. It was clear that his anger was deeply personal, and his pain only made the scene more unsettling.
The candidate's supporters, however, were unfazed by the old man's outburst. They simply shoved him aside and warned him that they would call the police if they caught him burning their candidate's posters again. After delivering their threat, they left, carrying their stacks of posters to continue their work elsewhere.
Once they were gone, I approached the old man, who remained seated on the side of the road, his face heavy with grief and anger. As I got closer, he grabbed his cane and pointed it at me, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.
"If you're one of those supporters of that devil pastor, don't even think about trying to drive me away. I won't move, no matter what you do!" he declared, his voice trembling with determination.
I gave him a reassuring smile and replied, "You don't have to worry. I would never support candidates who don't deserve it."
Seeing the sincerity in my words, the old man lowered his cane and sat back down on the ground. He let out a long, weary sigh, as if releasing some of the weight he had been carrying. It was clear that his battle wasn't just about the posters but something much deeper and more personal.