Mondlicht: It smells like ... Vertin, and X, and Oliver Fog—achoo!
Mondlicht: They smell like ... potions. Pungent.
Mondlicht: Something similar happened in the village once. People left their homes for the forest, speaking strange words ...
Mondlicht: ... I need to hurry if I'm going to catch up with them.
Mondlicht: There are too many smells here ... and so many people. I can't make out anything.
Mondlicht: These tall houses lit with candles that never go out ... racing metallic beasts ... This is "modern society." I've heard people talk about it before ...
Mondlicht: ... but I've never experienced it myself. There are so many things I've never seen before ... I must be careful.
Mondlicht hides her hunting rifle in her coat and makes her way into the crowd.
Mondlicht: Here ...
Mondlicht: And here, too ... They're going in circles.
Mondlicht: They didn't move quickly, so they probably aren't being pursued. They're looking for something ...
Utilizing a hunter's intuition in the city is not easy.
Here, it is noisy, bustling, and filled with unfamiliar scents. Mondlicht concentrates hard on her search. She follows the trail out of the alley and onto a wide street.
Mondlicht: This place is huge. It'll be tough to find them.
Mondlicht: If only I had asked the others earlier about "modern society." Then I would know more ...
Mondlicht: Is this ...?
Behind a huge pane of glass, there is a pile of gray boxes, each with its own little window. They display countless howling wolves.
They growl and run, drool glistening from the corners of their mouths. Their narrow eyes glint coldly. Then, all at once, they pounce towards the window!
Mondlicht: Get out of the way!
Passerby: Ah— Mother—
Passerby: Oh my, I-I'm bleeding! Something grazed me! Help!
Passerby: A gunshot—It was a gunshot! Everybody down!
Passerby: Call the police, quick! It's another alien attack! I knew it! I knew the aliens were watching us!
Passerby: It's that girl! She fired a gun! I saw her!
Thick smoke billows from the smashed gray box and out through the now shattered glass pane. In the other little windows, the exaggerated words "Halloween Adventure" pop up playfully.
It is just a harmless home television store. Unfortunately, Mondlicht has never experienced, nor could she understand, such a complex "modern" facility.
Mondlicht: No, I'm sorry I hurt you ... There are wolves! You're in danger ...
Mondlicht: Please listen to me. They'll hurt you. Take your children and hide. Don't look outside, don't think, don't answer to any sounds. Just leave the rest to—
The police: You, girl in the cloak! Hands in the air! Drop your weapons!
Mondlicht: There are dangerous wolves on the prowl. Do not trust them.
Mondlicht: Are you the protectors of this place? Please take the people into the church and protect them. I'll do my best to drive away the wolves as quickly as possible—
The police: John, James, restrain her.
The police: Georgia, call St. Leah's Sanitarium. Ask them if—if there are any girls under ten who have run away.
The police: Got it.
Officers in black uniforms encircle Mondlicht on both sides. She retreats a few paces, bumping into the shattered glass behind her.
The police: Little girl, come here and hand me the gun. That's not something for you to play with; it's too dangerous.
Mondlicht: No.
Mondlicht: Don't come any closer.
By the time the officers notice the moon-like glow around them, Mondlicht's small figure has already disappeared.
She reappears several dozen meters away. Her red cape billows behind her as she runs, making her all the more conspicuous of a target.
The police: She's gone! In an instant, just like that, she vanished!
The police: She's an arcanist. I should have realized earlier, an arcanist! No wonder she was acting so strangely—Georgia, use the taser.
The police: But sir, she's just a child ...
The police: Now!
The police: … Understood!
Taser darts, crackling with purple and green electricity, shoot at the young arcanist.
Screams erupt from the crowd, half of them because of the terrifying bolt of electricity and the other half because of the baby blue Beetle that has just lifted up into the air.
Bunny Bunny: How. Can. They—
Bunny Bunny: Bully. A. Child. Like. That?!
The police: Jeez, ... what on earth is that?!
The police: Help! Somebody help!
Bunny Bunny: Come with me. This way!
Mondlicht: Ms. Bunny Bunny! There are wolves. It's dangerous! We—
Bunny Bunny: Wolves? Ah, oh! Uh, um …
Bunny Bunny: That was just a television. It's a long story. Right now, we need to run!
Bunny Bunny: Here, take my hand!
aliEn T: Oh♪~ And I think to myself♪~ What a wonderful world♪
aliEn T: Oh♪
aliEn T: No more aliEn T! I'm going home!
E-0991.31: And I'll be E-0991.31 again!
aliEn T: For now, I'm still aliEn T. But soon, very soon, I won't be!
aliEn T: As soon as I catch a human ...!
aliEn T: I'll have more Nebula trophies in my house than there is trash in this alley!
aliEn T: And I'll be wealthy enough to buy thousands of these cheap little apartments!
aliEn T comes across an open window.
Wafting through the window is the sound of a conversation on the phone that has clearly gone on too long, interspersed by the clicking of a camera shutter.
Photographer: That's it, Williams. This is the last time I'm taking photos for you!
Williams: No, you can't just give up on me like that! There's still District Nine—yes! I'm speaking to you as a District Nine detective!
Photographer: Ha, come on!
Photographer: Buddy, you've been "exiled" to the local precinct for nine months. How many people in District Nine still remember your face? Don't think I don't know you're not welcome there—
Photographer: Hey, the shots came out well.
Photographer: What were we just talking about? Oh! And you offended the new boss!
Williams: ... E-enough!
Williams: If this is your last time, you better take a few more shots.
Williams: ... For me. For the sake of our friendship.
Photographer: But, you know, I'm tired of shooting toys suspended by wires. How old do you think I am? Thirteen? Fourteen? I need something real! Something that can actually fly!
Photographer: Buddy, you have to start searching for the real thing—stop with these fakes, stop daydreaming!
Photographer: You can't just hope for the UFO of your dreams to appear right outside your window, like a sparrow!
Photographer: Besides, this d*n apartment window is so narrow that a sparrow couldn't even perch on it!
aliEn T: …
What a fitting encounter.
Photographer: Huh?
aliEn T: … A human! This is so—
Photographer: Officer.
Williams: What?
Photographer: Call for backup. There's a real UFO in your house.
Photographer: A true, bonafide, realer-than-real alien!
Photographer: In your window! Your window!
aliEn T: Wait, wait, I'm not real! I’m a toy! Just a toy!
Williams: I-I'll go out right away!
Williams: Oh, and don't forget to lock the door when you leave.
Photographer: It's the real deal! The genuine article! Wow ... Look at that beautiful plating. There's no way this kind of craftsmanship could be done on Earth!
aliEn T's protests are of no use. He should have known that not everyone is as gullible as Sotheby.
Photographer: Oh ... Your beautiful antennae and those little windows ... Let me take a photo. I need to get a good shot of you ...
The photographer gasps with excitement, envisioning the fame that would be his—"The UFO Discoverer"! All alien enthusiasts would adore him!
Photographer: Oh! I will definitely go down in history!
The pursuers arrive quickly, prowling behind him like a gang of stray dogs.
aliEn T: D***t! Sunspots! What a wormhole of a day this turned out to be!
Williams: Stop! We see you!
aliEn T: S-stop?! Ha! Human! Would you stop if I told you not to run?!
aliEn T: If you wouldn't do it yourself, then don't shoot your mouth off!
The police: Actually, that makes sense. Why do we always shout "stop"?
Williams: Shut up, you idiot! Catch that alien!!
aliEn T is in the lead, with the whole police squad following closely behind.
During the pursuit, the officer and his team smash fifteen pots of roses and trample two small vegetable patches.
aliEn T's antennae sever nine clotheslines, two of which are hanging some little girls' only dresses.
Finally, they are back on the street.
They pass a café, an ice cream parlor, a fruit stall, and over twenty newsstands.
Of course, being well versed in Blue Planet TV shows, aliEn T has mastered a particular trick. A trick that all fruit sellers abhor.
aliEn T: Ha! Have a taste of this!
Williams: Hey! Oh ... It's just a banana peel. What's the big idea?
aliEn T: Consider yourself lucky, you wrinkly bastard!
Williams: I'll be lucky if you're sent to the dissecting table, you, uh ... shiny serving platter!
The police: Wait, wai— Ah—!
aliEn T: Hahaha! Looks like your men aren't quite as skilled as you are!
Fruit Seller: My fruit!
The police: Sorry, sorry! We're very sorry. The city police department will pay for it!
One encounter after another, the officers apologize under their breath as they charge through the neighborhood, leaving chaos in their wake.
Fruit Seller: What is going on today!?
Fruit Seller: Arcanists! Aliens! Gunshots from two blocks away, followed by someone tossing a car!
Many others join his lamentation.
The housewives who lost their potted plants, the young girls whose dresses were ruined, and the driver whose brand-new car was destroyed.
There will be many lights illuminating sad faces tonight, and countless people will find it difficult to sleep.
aliEn T: panting
aliEn T: I finally ... lost them ... Why are h-humans ... so fast ... My power core is almost fried ...
Williams: Phew ... Where did it go? Did you ... Did anyone see?!
The police: S-sorry, sir ... No ... No one saw.
Williams: Spread out! It must be around here somewhere ... Search the alley!
aliEn T: ... What kind of stalkers are these people?! I have to find a place to hide!
aliEn T: Huh? Wait, this is ...
