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Usually, the posts on the front page of the internet linked to news sites or were filled with the occasional textposts, but today, it was filled with video posts. Other than the video of Yeoman binding the monstrous chihuahua, there were videos of large animals, oversized insects, people with odd mutations. The most popular post, however, linked to an official government website with a speech by the president of the United States.
Yeoman clicked on it, and after watching the twenty-minute video, he concluded he had wasted his time. The president was an old man, nearly ninety-eight years old. Apparently, the two largest political parties were incapable of finding anyone younger. In fact, the current president was the youngest of all the candidates including those who had been knocked out during the primaries. The speech was full of the usual platitudes when a catastrophe happened: Don’t panic. The government is doing everything they can. Everything will be fine. Yeoman assumed the president didn’t announce a concrete plan because there were just too many problems cropping up. The government couldn’t even provide proper hurricane relief, so how the hell were they going to deal with a global catastrophe?
That’s what the alien abductions had led to—a global catastrophe. At least, that’s the impression Yeoman got after visiting the global-news section of the forum. Only three hours had passed since the end of the third stage, yet the world was already in chaos. The dairy and meat industries were heavily disrupted. In the United States alone, there were more than ninety-four million cows, nearly one cow for every three humans. Factory farms were built and designed with exact specifications, tailored to maximize profits based on the size of the animals whether they be cows, chickens, turkeys, or pigs. When some of those animals suddenly grew past the farms’ specifications, the results were brutal. Some animals were crushed. Some animals broke out. Some killed the workers inside the factories.
Yeoman suspected the articles had been written before the third stage had even begun. Some journalists had probably thought ahead and speculated about what the changes the sudden growth would bring to different regions of the world. Other than the meat industry becoming totally disrupted, zoos suddenly didn’t seem so safe anymore. Some zoos had open-air cages for their landlubbing animals. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem since crocodiles and tigers couldn’t climb sheer walls made of concrete. Unfortunately, zoos never accounted for the possibility that those crocodiles and tigers would grow wings one day. Luckily for the zoos, there weren’t many people visiting zoos because they knew the third stage was about to begin. Unluckily for the zoos, there were a few morons who wanted to see how the animals would change and had their faces eaten by said animals.
As for aquariums, the aquatic equivalent of zoos, their visitors didn’t die, but it was unlikely they could continue to operate in the future, not with some docile fish suddenly growing and eating their tankmates. There was one human death, so far, when a shark with a horn rammed into the glass wall and broke it. The poor worker had been knocked unconscious and drowned in a pool of water less than six inches in depth. Yeoman wasn’t sure how journalists had gotten ahold of that story so quickly; it seemed like they were everywhere at once. Then again, some people were smart and made full use of opportunities as they came. What better time to be a journalist when there was something new to be found every time a stage ended?
Every time Yeoman pressed the refresh button on his screen, more and more bad news would pop up on his screen: Brazil was having bad experiences with fire ants. The wild dog problem in Russia was now taken much more seriously, and soldiers were deployed to kill them. The wet markets in Asia were being cracked down on—for the umpteenth time. Australia started another war against the emus and their newfound allies, the cane toads and feral rabbits.
Yeoman sighed and leaned back in his seat. A moment later, there was a cracking sound, and his chair snapped, its legs breaking. Yeoman sat on the floor, stunned. Had he gained that much weight? He had a scale in his house, but it only went up to three hundred pounds, and when he stepped on it, it went haywire, swinging back and forth past the line that represented the maximum weight. A spider scuttled over to Yeoman, and he glanced at it. Would Red try to eat him one day? If it got hungry enough, Yeoman was betting it’d eat anything, him included. He was beginning to regret taking the black widow in as a pet. “How am I going to feed you?”
It wasn’t like Yeoman could go to a pet shop and buy poor critters for Red to eat. Well, he could, but somehow, that’d feel highly immoral to him. If a puppy came up to him with its bright eyes and happy-looking face, full of expectations of a pleasant future, there was no way he’d be able to feed it to Red. The guilt would consume him. However, it wasn’t like he was able to release Red into the wild either. What if the spider killed and ate a human? Would it be considered his fault? Legally, it wouldn’t be a problem. Gun producers couldn’t be sued for their products being used in a crime, but morally, it was pretty low. As for killing Red? Yeoman didn’t even consider it. He took the creature in; it was his responsibility now.
A buzzing sound drew Yeoman’s attention away from the spider, and he stood up. His phone was vibrating on the corner of his desk. He raised an eyebrow at the caller’s name, and he slid his thumb across the screen, accepting the call. It’d be rude to ignore someone who had helped him out before. “Gordon? What’s up?”
“Hey, Yeoman, have you checked the front page of the internet recently? I think you’re on it.”
“Yeah,” Yeoman said. “That’s me. What about it?”
“My dad is looking to hire some bodyguards for the family, and I was wondering if you needed a job.”
A job as a bodyguard? Yeoman glanced at Red. Even though Yeoman didn’t need to eat much thanks to photosynthesis, he still needed money to feed the spider. He thought it’d be manageable with the money he had saved up, but after Red’s transformation, he had second thoughts about the size of his bank account. “I’ve never trained to be a bodyguard before.”
“It’s fine,” Gordon said. “No bodyguards have trained to fight tiger-sized dogs and cats. Also, judging by your new upgrades, I’m guessing you’ve cleared the third stage as well? That qualification does all the talking for you.”
Yeoman rubbed his chin. “What’s the pay like?”
“Eighty-thousand a year,” Gordon said. “You also get bonuses for each incident you prevent.”
Yeoman frowned. It paid less than his engineering job and was more dangerous as well. However, his old boss probably wouldn’t take him back for one critical reason. “Does your family care if I’m a zombie?”
“Are you planning on eating my family?” Gordon joked. “Don’t worry. The zombie part of you is a plus.”
Yeoman exhaled. He had been scouted a few times by different companies, but this was his first time being scouted as a bodyguard. “Alright,” he said. “Your family is pretty rich, right?” He glanced at the spider standing next to him. “I have a black widow the size of a tiger. Do you think you can get me food for it?”
“…”
“Hello?”
“What does it eat?”
Yeoman furrowed his brow. “So far, it’s eaten a cockroach and a cat.”
There was a silence on the other end of the line. Yeoman took his phone away from his ear and glanced at the corner of the screen. The signal was fine. When Yeoman was about to ask if Gordon was still there, the man replied, “I’ll see what I can do.”
Yeoman nodded to himself and put the phone next to his head again. “When do I start?”
“I’ll text you a time and place,” Gordon said. “My dad will interview you there first and hash out all the details with you.”
“Alright,” Yeoman said and glanced at his broken chair. He walked into his living room and took a seat on his couch instead. “Was there anything else?”
“No,” Gordon said. “Well, actually, no, never mind. I’ll see you later.”
Yeoman raised an eyebrow. It seemed like Gordon had his own problems. “Alright, if there’s anything I can do for you, just let me know. Bye.”
“Will do. See you.”
Yeoman ended the call and adjusted his body, sinking into the couch. A moment later, his phone buzzed, and a text message with a time and location appeared on the screen. There was also a message. Yeoman chuckled while reading it. It seemed like Gordon didn’t really like Cody but was still willing to acknowledge the Asian man’s skills. Yeoman sent a text to Cody. “Gordon’s family is hiring bodyguards. Want to apply?”
Not even a few seconds later, Yeoman received a reply. “Am I guarding a cute girl?”
Yeoman blinked. “I’m not sure about the details. It pays eighty-thousand a year.”
“I’ll pass. If I don’t finish my degree, my parents will beat my ass. If Gordon does happen to have a sister, let me know and I’ll reconsider.”
Yeoman’s expression darkened, and he sent a message to Gordon. “Cody won’t be coming.”
“No problem. It was worth a shot.”
Yeoman placed his phone on his coffee table and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. The world was changing way too fast. Two months ago, he was an engineer. Now, he was a bodyguard. Where would he be a year from now after the fourth stage ended? Yeoman shook his head. He had to take things one step at a time. For now, there were more important things to worry about—like getting a shirt. It wasn’t like he could show up to an interview half-naked, right?