"Where is he?!" Caelen grumbled.
The first place he went was the pharmacy near the city, yet no matter where he searched, he couldn't find the old man.
'Did something happen to him along the way?'
Leaving the pharmacy area, he continued searching around.
"This won't work," Caelen muttered.
Searching blindly like this would get him nowhere.
'Let's think about the paths the old man could take.'
There were three paths to the pharmacy. He'd already searched one, leaving two remaining...
The first path was the longest, as it required moving between buildings to reach the main street.
The second path was the shortest but also the most dangerous. Since many city dwellers traveled this route, scavengers waited there, ready to steal belongings and even kill, especially targeting rich city men and women.
It was particularly worse for women...
"But why would the old man go there? He was the one who told me never to use that path..."
'I'll check the first path first...'
***
"Aghhh."
Caelen gritted his teeth as he sat on the ground, leaning his back against the broken wall of a crumbling house.
His body burned with pain; every movement sent agony through him like a tsunami. But he was accustomed to pain.
His entire life had been pain from the moment he was born. The only relief and peace he'd ever known came from the old man.
Life in the slums forced Caelen to mature faster than most children. He knew that the old man would soon be fired from his job.
It was a miracle he'd kept it this long.
That's why Caelen had tried to find work or some other way to earn money.
And he had found one—a fighting ring.
The ring was a place where slum residents gathered to watch people fight, be it children, men, or women; everyone was eligible to enter.
Occasionally, city dwellers came to watch too...
Death was common in the ring, and there was no compensation for the victim's family or anything of the sort.
If you died, it was your own fault.
Only the strongest survived in the ring—that was the law.
Caelen fought in the lower weight class, where children his age competed.
Half of his bruises came from fights in the ring. The other half...
...were from being ambushed by those he'd defeated in the ring and their friends.
"Damn them..." Caelen muttered.
Getting up from his place, he sighed.
He'd searched the entire path but still hadn't found the old man.
There was only one place left to search...
***
He didn't find him.
Not even in the path filled with scavengers. There was no trace of the old man.
He'd even rechecked the other paths, but there was nothing.
With nowhere else to go, he returned to the apartment.
He took the stairs up to the second floor.
Then he noticed something...
'The door is open!'
Caelen quickly pulled a knife from his pocket and carefully approached the door.
There were only two keys for the apartment: one was with him, and the other was with the old man.
Both of them always locked the door whenever they left or were inside.
It was an unspoken rule between them.
The door being open meant one thing—a thief!
Reaching the door, he peeked inside. There was a boy, no older than twelve, searching around.
Caelen instantly recognized the boy.
'One of Bran's lackeys...'
Looking at his knife, Caelen took a deep breath.
He knew a sneak attack wouldn't work since the door would creak when opened.
Caelen pushed the door open with all his strength and dashed toward the thief.
With his back turned, the thief took a moment to react.
That brief moment, combined with his shock at seeing Caelen, was enough for Caelen to plunge the knife deep into the thief's thigh.
Caelen quickly covered the thief's mouth with his other hand, preventing him from screaming.
Not knowing if the thief was alone, his priority was ensuring silence.
Looking into the thief's eyes, Caelen whispered, "If you make even a single sound, I'll bury this knife deep in your skull. Understand?"
The boy nodded fearfully.
"Good. Is there anyone else here with you?"
The boy shook his head.
Unsure if he was truthful, Caelen twisted the knife in his thigh.
The thief cried out in pain, but Caelen ensured no sound escaped.
"Don't even think about lying to me."
Caelen removed his hand from the thief's mouth, allowing him to speak.
"I swear, Caelen! There's no one else!"
Caelen stared at him and nodded.
"How did you enter the apartment?"
The thief hesitated, looking away nervously.
Caelen withdrew the knife from his thigh and placed it threateningly above the thief's lower body.
Seeing this, the boy quickly spoke, "Wait! Wait! I'll tell you!"
Caelen nodded, signaling him to continue.
"We... we saw the old man you're living with walking alone, and Bran... ordered us to... Please, Caelen! You know I didn't do it willingly! I didn't want to!"
Caelen chuckled softly.
"Where's the old man?"
The thief revealed everything. After finishing, he clasped his hands together, crying and begging, "You'll let me live, right? I swear, I didn't want to do this."
The thief knew Caelen very well. How could he not? The infamous Skull Crusher was renowned in the ring.
A dark horse who rose rapidly within a year, killing opponents by crushing their skulls.
Caelen smiled coldly and plunged the knife deep into the thief's skull, killing him instantly.
Dragging the body out, Caelen threw it into a garbage heap.
In silence, Caelen walked toward the location where the old man was...
***
In the middle of an alley, a naked body, covered in wounds and bruises, lay on the ground.
Footsteps approached from afar, growing louder.
The footsteps belonged to none other than Caelen.
Upon reaching the lifeless body, Caelen paused and looked at it.
He sat down next to the body.
"You look terrible, old man..."
No response came.
Examining the old man's corpse closely, he saw that it was tightly clutching something in its hand.
It was medicine.
"Hahaha... I... I don't understand, old man. Why? Why do you care about me so much? Why sacrifice your life for me? I'm not your son or even a relative, so why do you care this much?"
Again, there was no response.
"You've always told me I'm blessed by fate and the heavens, calling my survival a miracle... but is that true?"
"Wasn't it fate and heaven that tried to kill me, and I'm the one who desperately clung to life? This cruel world... is unfair—I know it well. It's a world where the strong dominate, and the weak are mere ants crushed by those seeking power."
"This name you gave me... doesn't fit me, nor do I fit it. I'm sorry, old man... I can't avenge you. Not because I can't, but because I want to live. Revenge is nothing but a spiral of doom that'll eventually consume me."
He stood and looked down at the old man one last time, saying, "Goodbye, old man... and I'm sorry."
And thus, the nameless child walked away, vowing to cling to life no matter what.
***
Finally I finished the introduction of the Mc. I'm really happy with how it came out, and I hope you liked it too.
The next chapter will be the real start of the Fanfic!
Again see you tomorrow!