Three hours.
That was how long the audience — Allen, Atlas, Slater, and the twins — had idled near the jogging path. The twins had cheered for their mother nonstop until they got hungry again and ended up eating for the second ti.
Slater, on the other hand, got tired of begging Lola to stop. To relieve his stress, he opened a bar of chocolate. anwhile, Atlas and Allen had to work. Allen left to adjust Atlas’s schedule, while Atlas himself retreated to the study to work in peace.
Another hour later, the twins went off to play while Slater continued lounging under the shade.
"Wow..." Slater blinked in awe. "It looks like they’re just having a marathon."
He idled for a bit, then pulled out his phone to play gas. When that got boring, he scrolled through social dia, reading comnts that made him smile — and others that didn’t.
Naturally, he started replying to the negative ones.
For the next hour, Slater spent his ti bickering with strangers online and posting selfies. He even made a short video appreciating his beauty and dancing. But despite all that ti passing, Lola still wasn’t done.
"Sis!" Slater shouted at the top of his lungs, dramatically stretching out his arm as the group neared him. "Have rcy on yourself! You’re going to kill yourself at this point!"
But Lola didn’t even glance at him. The group didn’t, either. They jogged past without a care while Slater continued lanting like a villainous in-law in a lodrama about to faint.
anwhile...
Chacha and Second stood on their toes, hands gripping the windowsill, their heads barely peeking over it. Both frowned as they watched their mother from the second floor.
"Daddy, can you make Mommy stop?" Second asked. "She’s been running forever."
"She might beco small too," Chacha added worriedly. "If she keeps running, her legs might turn into a flat tire."
Flat tire?
Allen froze, horrified, realizing the children were evolving into sothing else entirely.
Atlas, however, only glanced at them. "Don’t worry about her," he said. "She has her own mind. She’ll stop once she can’t push herself any further."
"Father Sir, why would you say that?" the twins asked in unison, instantly demoting him back to Father Sir.
"..." Atlas stared at them blankly. "Finish your howork."
The twins pouted but reluctantly moved away from the window. They climbed back onto their seats, which were placed on either side of their father’s desk. Using his work table as theirs, they quietly did howork while Atlas returned to his own work.
In the middle of it, Atlas discreetly glanced at the clock — then at the window. From where he sat, he could still see the jogging path. Though he didn’t show it, a faint trace of concern flickered in his mind.
He wondered how long this would last.
Because if Lola couldn’t make his n stop soon, he’d have to step in. And knowing her, she wouldn’t like that. Still, if it dragged on, he wouldn’t have a choice.
*****
Two hours later...
Lola could barely feel her legs anymore. She’d been running for seven hours straight with these n.
Are these people monsters?!
Her eyes widened in disbelief as she looked at them. Horror was written all over her flushed face as she realized how easily they maintained straight, calm expressions — even after days of running.
I’m never fighting any of these guys, she told herself, looking ahead. They’re built differently.
Thankfully, Slater had taken a break from his dramatic begging to set up a water station. Thanks to him, Lola managed to grab sips between laps and even snack a little without stopping.
But unlike what she thought, the runners had been watching her.
At first, they assud she’d give up within an hour. When an hour passed, they gave her two. When two passed, they said three. But even after that, she still kept running.
Eight hours later, she was still going.
"Hey!" one of the n finally broke his silence. "You should stop now!"
"We’re not stopping, so this is pointless."
"You’re going to kill yourself at this rate!"
"We’re trained — this is nothing for us," another said. "We’re not stopping just because you told us to. So give it up."
But nothing.
These n had been conserving their energy, rarely speaking, but now they had to say sothing. And yet, it was Lola who didn’t respond this ti.
She kept running, eyes forward, her breath heavy.
"I told you," she panted. "Unless you stop, I’ll keep running."
One of them snorted. "No one’s stopping just because you said so. Don’t try to be a hero — we don’t need one. Either stop or drop dead. That’s on you."
Lola chuckled weakly, finally turning her head toward them. "Who said I’m trying to be a hero?"
She looked ahead again, eyes sharp despite the exhaustion on her face.
"I’m not doing this because I want to be a hero," she clarified, voice faint but firm. "I’m doing this because... I don’t want to carry all your deaths on my conscience."
She huffed, pushing her pace slightly ahead of them. "Hero? What a shallow thing to even think about."
The n’s eyes stayed on her figure — drenched in sweat, clearly drained, but unwavering.
No one spoke again. Their gazes instead drifted toward the water and snack station Slater had set up nearby.
That guy... was trying to kill them.
Why would he set up a water and snack station? Because of him, they could eat and drink without stopping — aning they had no excuse to rest!
As they jogged past, Slater stood behind his little stand, glaring daggers at them. He dragged a thumb across his throat and growled,
"If my sister-in-law dies... you guys are dead at."
Ti passed, and Lola kept her word. She didn’t stop even when she couldn’t feel her legs anymore. anwhile, as ti passed, people started gathering around the jogging path until there was a crowd, just watching who would yield first.
Because at this point, Lola and the group seed to continue purely out of spite and pride.
Scarlet, who was in the guest house, perked up at the window. Both her feet were wrapped in a bandage, still unable to walk with the punishnt she received. Catching the growing crowd in the distance, her brows knitted.
"What’s going on over there?"
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