Chapter 82-Searching for Old Rogers.

When Wilson woke up the next day, it was,precisely speaking, not even the next day. He had slept for two straight days and when he finally woke up, he felt refreshed. His body felt somewhat new. It was lighter than he remembered, his sense of sight and hearing was more sensitive and his mind was clear.

He tried to figure out why and came to the conclusion that the reason was because he has been on edge for quite some time and it had been so long since he could relax completely.

He remained in bed and thought about his adventure of the past couple weeks or months, rather. Maybe even he should be thinking in terms of years. At this point, he could not even be sure anymore.

He looked around at the room's interior. The room was coloured in a blend of white and red. A lamp rested on a desk by his side, an an extension of the bed itself. There was a small wardrobe at the other corner of the room and a bathroom door only a few steps away by its side. The lighting was soft and gentle to the eyes. There were no windows but the ventilation was really okay, neither hot not cold, with a slight scent that calmed him down and even though he knew nothing about the fashion sense in the cities, he was grateful to whoever the interior designer was. He appreciated the thoughtfulness.

Wilson stood up, stretched, took a bath and changed. The clothes in the wardrobe were his size.

As he turned around to leave the room, he noticed a piece of paper resting on the small desk, right beside the lamp.

On it was a small note: Go to the restaurant and ask for Old Rogers. He would tell you what to do next. P.S- Do not appear with that drool on your face. Freshen up. There are fresh clothes and shoes in the wardrobe.

'Drool? There was a drool on my face?' Wilson thought. He really had no idea. How did they know anyway? And these clothes were his exact size? When did they have time to measure him?

"I must have been at midnight while I was very tired!" Wilson concluded.

To Wilson, he was only asleep for at most ten hours and they must have checked on him at midnight, while he was fast asleep.

With this thought in mind, he left the room and shut the door. Walking down the hallway, he instinctively followed his nose straight into the restaurant.

************

The previous day, about 20 hours back, Old Rogers, the owner of the hotel Wilson spent the night, was called by the General who just so happened to be his brother-in-law.

The General had called him to check on a certain boy.

When he entered the room, Wilson was snoring so loudly, that everything in the room vibrated, drool was dripping from the side of his mouth and a shattered glass lamp was on the floor before the desk.

"Brother-in-law, it's alright to call you brother-in-law right now, right?" Old Rogers says into his mouthpiece.

"Just go on." Says the General's voice from the other side of the call.

"He is still deep asleep. His snores have even broken one of my glass lamps. I don't think it is a good idea to wake him up."

"Really?" The General asked.

"Yes, he must be really exhausted. What happened to him?" Old Rogers asked.

"That's classified for now."

"Really?"

"...." General said nothing.

"You know that, that just makes me even more curious, right??" Old Rogers asks. The General sighed and spoke calmly.

"Brother-in-law, my superiors ordered me to keep mum. But, Wilson hasn't been warned yet. If you decide to ask him before the orders reach him, we can do nothing about it." He explained.

"Oooh!" Old Rogers exclaimed excitedly. "That's why I love you, brother-in-law. Hehe!" He continued.

"For now, just let him rest!" The General reminded.

"No problem, I will leave a note for him to see when he wakes up." Old Rogers said.

"Okay. I will leave it to you. Contact me when he wakes up."

"Yes sir. No problem. Salute!" Old Rogers said.

"Salute." The General responded and cut the call.

*************

"Hello! I'm looking for someone called Old Rogers." Wilson approached a man of middle-age with white hair in a very short crew cut hairstyle and white mustache, sitting at a table in the restaurant situated on the ground floor, below the hotel.

"Old Rogers? I don't know who you are talking about." The man said very loudly.

"Sir, don't you think you are being a little too loud?" Wilson could not resist the urge to ask.

Old Rogers glared at him, eyes blazing as if telling the story of how those that talked rudely to him ended in a bad state.

"I apologise sir. I will ask someone else." Wilson quickly apologized and walked away to another table.

"Excuse me sirs, do you know of Old Rogers?" He asked a group of six men sitting at one of the other tables.

"Old who? Never heard of him." One said

"Me neither."

"I'm clueless as well."

"Likewise."

"Me too."

"Me six."

Wilson bowed and walked to ask at another table, but they also denied any knowledge of an Old Rogers.

So, table after table he went, but they all denied knowing this Old Rogers.

"Old Rogers? I have never heard of that name before."

"Don't ask me, I have no idea."

"I don't whomever you seek."

"Buy me a drink and maybe we will talk....no money? Then, f*ck off my sight!"

"Well, young man, as you can see there is no old man here."

"Don't bother me, kid."

"Go to hell, you are disturbing my peace!"

After a while, he arrived another lady's table.

"Hello, pretty miss. Do you know any one by the name Old Rogers?"

"Oh?" She was slightly startled. She blushed a little and pointed at the man with the white hair and mustache that Wilson had first approached. "That's him. That man with white hair over there is Old Rogers."

"Traitor!" The white haired man yells. "Barbara, just because an underaged called you pretty, you happily and so easily spilled the beans? Shame on you!" He said.

"Hahahaha, Old Rogers, that is enough. You guys have had enough fun, haven't you?" Barbara responded dismissively.

"Wilson, come here." Old Rogers invited Wilson to have a seat opposite him.

In minutes, a buffet was served before them much to the envy of most of the other customers.

"Help yourself!" Old Rogers said. That was all the prompt the already salivating Wilson needed. He immediately grabbed the fork and knife closest to him and began to cut and throw meat in his mouth without restraint.

Old Rogers watched calmly and with interest as Wilson ate, picking from all over the table at a rare eating speed. Others would usually slow down while eating with a fork and knife but not Wilson.

Twenty minutes later, all the food was gone. Wilson leaned back to rest and thanked Old Rogers.

"So, tell what happened before you got here? More precisely, what did you tell Lieutenant Ayo's Captain?" Old Rogers finally asked.

"What are you talking about?" Wilson tried to appear ignorant.

"Start talking, Wilson. The General is my brother in-law but even he was restricted from telling me. And the soldiers sent here to fetch you will soon arrive. So, let's make a deal. If you tell me what I'm so curious about, I will let you have a pick of my weapons collection. You want to become a hunter, right?"

"No, wrestler." Wilson answered.

"Meh, not much difference." Old Rogers said.

"....." Wilson did not know what to say.

"So, do we have a deal. We only have about ten minutes left. You have to make a decision immediately. I promise I won't spill the beans."Old Rogers urged. Wilson's face contorted for a while in a deep frown before relaxing.

"Okay." And just like that, Wilson once again told the same story he told the Captain to the disbelieving ears of Old Rogers. He had barely finished when lieutenant Ayo came into the restaurant, directly approached them, greeted Old Rogers with a salute and spoke sternly to Wilson.

"Come with me."