Hob was unusually focused today, sitting on the tilting roof of the rundown house, if it could even be called that. Well, it wasn't his house, so he wasn't focused on it. What he was focused on was how he would get selected tomorrow.
Tomorrow was the entrance test of the "HUNTED." It may sound funny as to why one would want to be hunted, but not in this world. Here, the difference between the hunter and the hunted is very thin, or so those hypocrites say. They don't even know what being hunted is like, what running for your life feels like; just the thought alone is horrifying to most people. But there are still those who join the "HUNTED" for money or for family. They risk their lives and their futures all for the survival of those behind them.
But not Hob. He is here for something else. He wants to live for himself, hunt for himself, and make his own kingdom. Quite ambitious, to say the least. Does he have what it takes to be the "HUNTER" or will he become the "HUNTED"? Only time will tell.
Time isn't easy to tell in this world; the sun is hidden almost always. There are clocks, of course, but they are a rare commodity here and very valuable as well.
The first test of the "HUNTED" is to be on time at the testing venue—not late, not early, but on time. Only a 5-minute window is given to those who want to participate, to appear at the venue. There is no signal, no bell, or anything to indicate when to appear; all that's given is a time: 15:00-15:05. Those who don't appear are considered to have failed the test. Any means are acceptable; any number of participants are accepted, so long as it's within the time limit.
But the worst part is knowing the time. It's hard to know what time it is in this forsaken world. Those who can get their hands on a clock are rare and seen with greed, but those who can tell the time without a clock are rare and revered. It's a strange world. No one can tell what is valuable to whom and useless to another; every commodity has its use in this world.
The reason why Hob is sitting on this particular roof is also to know the time. There is something in this house that is very similar to a clock, but it's not a clock, and not many people know of it. Those who do like to keep it a secret. How Hob came to know of it was sheer luck—or more of bad luck. He was hit hard and left barely conscious on this very roof three days ago for unknown reasons. He doesn't even know who or what hit him. He was lying on the ground for almost seven hours that day—well, almost, because he didn't hear the seventh click.
Yes, a click. When he was lying on the roof, he heard a barely audible click coming from inside the roof itself every now and then. According to his intuition, it was about an hour when the click came every time. He had heard six clicks, almost at the same interval of time, but before he could hear the seventh, he was rescued by those who serve the hypocrites.
And today, he was here once again to hear the clicks. It's been only an hour since he paid an exorbitant amount of commodities to know the time once and to keep track of it till the test begins. Here he was, relying on the clicks to know the approximate time. He was lucky enough to pay for the time when it was 11:01 and come here to hear the click right after.
The click should have been around 11:02, so he'll have to run as soon as the fourth click sounds and get to the venue in three minutes. Thankfully, the venue is just 500 meters away—though it is if he runs in a straight line. If he runs through the alleys, he'll probably be late for the test. So, he was going to take a leap of faith with a friend of his who claims that his "innovation" can save his life even if he falls from too high.
Though he didn't trust him, he doesn't have much choice, or he'll be the lamb next year. The lambs are those who aren't of any use and can only be sacrificed by those hypocrites to appease the hunger of the truly powerful "HUNTERS," those that can't be defeated yet.
But his wait is about to be over, for the click will sound any second now, and he'll have to get into action and run as if his life depended on it—because it did, for real.