The little girl would have been about eight years old.

Like all children in her situation, she had been forced to grow up fast. In her eyes was reflected an unusually strong self-awareness, an intelligence beyond what could be expected for her age.

She had the body of a girl, but her face didn't resemble the face of a child.

Desmond would say it was strange, disturbing.

That wouldn't be true. Not to him it wouldn't. As much as it pained him now, he had seen too many children with that same face.

In the past, he'd seen that kind of face in his own reflection to begin with.

No one remained untouched living on the street.

Being at the mercy of the cruelty of the world.

The things she had seen, the things she would have been forced to do....

Desmond didn't want to think about it.

Back then, he hadn't given a shit about those in the same situation as him.

He had been too busy with himself to think or care about anyone else.

But now, the fact that this girl, like many other children, had to live the same way he had in the past weighed on his mind.

More importantly, in his heart.

I'm not selling myself, she had said.

Fuck. Fuck, this shouldn't happen. None of this should happen.

Of course it shouldn't.

But things that shouldn't happen happened all the time.

The world was far from fair.

And children, all too often.... Children were the first to suffer such injustices. And the ones who suffered the worst.

Because they had no power.

Because they were at the mercy of everything and everyone.

Children were supposed to be protected until they grew up, until they could handle the hostile and huge world on their own.

But too many found themselves in circumstances like these before they learned anything.

Too many...

Had to learn to fly while falling.

"Business?" The girl's soft voice brought him out of his thoughts.

He looked at her again.

Really looking at her and not through her, that is.

"Yes, that's all I'm asking. Take me to your boss, the easiest job in the world. In exchange for that, you get to keep the bag of money and I'll give you some food, too."

The girl was hesitating.

Seeing her hesitation, Desmond went on the attack.

Words were not his thing. But his 'opponent' was an eight year old girl.

She might be a few years older, not having grown properly because of malnutrition. Anyway, he should be able to convince her.

It couldn't be that hard, even for him, to convince a little girl. Even a little girl like her, forced to grow up too fast, was still a little girl, deep down.

"Best of all, you won't have to share your reward. No one but us needs to know about this."

The children who worked under the protection of the gangs had to give as tribute part of everything they got.

Food, money.

Otherwise, they lost that protection.

Despite the benefits of belonging to a gang, at the end of the day they had to work twice as hard to survive. It almost didn't pay off.

So that was a big hook.

Desmond knew by how the girl's expression changed that he had her. She wouldn't let her guard down completely, though, as expected.

"All right. I'll do it."

Desmond almost let out a sigh of relief.

If he had failed at this, he would never have gotten over it. He wasn't cold and heartless. He wouldn't have had the stomach necessary to force her by force to do what he wanted.

So, if words hadn't been enough, he would have failed.

But he didn't have to worry about that anymore.

The girl pocketed the bag she had stolen from him.

Desmond looked inside his backpack, searching for food to give her.

He handed it to her.

As much as she could carry. He hoped she would be wise, that she would make it last, that, perhaps, she would keep it as a backup for the worst days or weeks. Where she had nothing left to eat.

But maybe she wouldn't be able to restrain herself. Maybe she couldn't think about being prudent, and binge it.

And that... That might be okay, too.

Her having a full stomach for a change.

He just wished her good luck.

Desmond wished he could help her more. But if he stopped to help everyone who needed it, he'd never get to his destination.

Would never get what she wanted.

Besides, sooner or later he would run out of stuff to give.

"I'm not selling myself," she repeated, again.

"What? Of course not. And that's not what I want from you. I've already told you that."

Why had she started that again?

The girl was silent for a while.

"This way," she said at last.

The girl led him through the alleys, keeping a safe distance from him, so she could run away if he tried anything. The reward had tempted her, but that didn't mean she trusted him.

She was right.

Even if she was reasonably sure he had no ill intentions, she was right.

In a world like this, if she let her guard down for even a second she could be gobbled up without even leaving her bones.

"Is he here?" Desmond asked, just to be sure.

Emerald had finally stopped; she had told him her name on the way, he had to ask for it, of course. Now they were in front of a building. This could be the place or she might have had second thoughts and been considering making a run for it with the loot.

The girl nodded.

You've already given him what she wanted, your only trump card, Abigail said.

That was absolutely true.

He wanted to trust the girl, but he couldn't trust her blindly.

"Don't go yet," Desmond said as he started to leave. "First, I need to be sure this is the right place."

But if they saw that she had led him here, that would surely bring serious consequences, at worst, they would get rid of her. So he couldn't let them see her.

But he couldn't let her go either.

Not yet. Fortunately, that particular problem had an easy solution.

"Stand in the corner, behind the wall. And wait until I give you permission to leave. Please."

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Emerald hesitated, but in the end did as he asked.

Even though, as Abigail had said, she could run at any moment.

She had the money, she had the food.

She wasn't obligated to help him.

But maybe that was just what he wanted to think. That kindness had its rewards.

Maybe Emerald was just thinking that he had caught her easily, so it wasn't worth trying to escape and risk angering him.

Maybe she was just doing it out of fear.

Maybe.

It was an unpleasant thought, that he was like a monster who at any moment could change his mind and go after her, in the girl's eyes.

But it was more than understandable.

She was very small.

A drop of water in the vast sea, a grain of sand among the billions in the desert.

She lived in a world of shadows and monsters, where the only safe thing was herself.

Desmond knocked on the door.

The window opened.

"Who are you?"

"Someone to see Roman," he said simply. On business.

"Business, huh? How did you know we could be found here?"

He had to answer fast and well, so he wouldn't slam the window in his face.

Desmond could break down the door, try to do this by force. However, he would prefer to be more discreet. Not draw attention to himself.

The building was filled with Roman's men.

The guard at the door led him to another. He knocked on it with his knuckles.

"Boss? There's someone here from out of town. Wants to do business, he says. He has a lot of money, he says."

"Come in."

There was a man sitting in the chair, cross-legged on the office table. That had to be Roman.

The boss of this whole operation.

His head was bent low, so low that his hat covered his eyes. He was cutting his nails nonchalantly. If only he knew he'd let a lion into his den....

But hey, that was better for him, really.

Besides, he wasn't here to cause trouble.

"You could have warned me before you brought him here," Roman said. From the way he said it, he made it clear that by 'could have' he had meant, of course, 'should have'.

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry. "The gorilla bowed slightly.

"Don't let it happen again. "Roman made a dismissive gesture with his free hand. You may go.

So he did, closing the door behind him. But not unwisely leaving him alone with his boss. There were more of Roman's men in the room, all standing silently, standing like statues around the table.

Roman lifted his head from his fingernails, looking at him. Instantly, Desmond tensed. He hoped imperceptibly. He had made quite an impression on him because his eyes reminded him of Laura's. Cold, empty eyes. No trace of humanity.

As if he wasn't even human.

He had nothing to fear from Roman and his men. Random criminals.

Not after everything he'd faced.

But still, those inhuman eyes made him tense. Laura's shadow lingered in his mind. And, incidentally, so did her words. Especially what she had said as she was dying. Before he killed her. He remembered every word perfectly.

"Well?" Roman asked, slightly mockingly. "What's this business about?"

"I want to get across the border. To enter the Azure Empire. I'm willing to pay for you to arrange that."

"The Empire. Why? I may be a filthy criminal, but I have my standards, you know. If you plan to turn your back on our kingdom, I'll kill you right here. I'll gut you and enjoy every second of it."

"My reasons are none of your business. But I will say that I have no love for traitors either."

"I see. I see. I see."

Desmond, you shouldn't...

But Abigail couldn't finish the sentence. He heard a scream.

Desmond turned his head to the side, opening his eyes wide. Still, he could see nothing. Not a trace of her. Because she had disappeared.

"Are you scared? "Roman asked teasingly. " That's good. I'm a kind and understanding man, but I don't like to be disrespected. I might... get angry. So let's try again. Why do you want to cross the border? Why are you trying to sneak into Imperial territory?"

Desmond grimaced. His whole body was suddenly tense.

He had almost forgotten, talking to her, holding her so close, but Abigail wasn't with him.

She was somewhere far away, captured by her enemies.

Surely they had begun experimenting on her. Or torturing her.

Well, it was really the same thing.

It didn't matter.

Or maybe they had been doing it from the beginning, but now they had done something worse, which had made her react that way.

In any case, he didn't have to worry so much.

Abigail... She was as well as she could be. And she couldn't die. He repeated this to himself as if afraid that he might forget.

As if afraid it wasn't true after all.

Desmond turned to Roman.

"I seek to attack the capital to rescue someone important to me."

"Attack the capital? "Roman laughed. His men mimicked him. " Whatever the reason, that's complete madness. You expect me to believe that?"

"You can think what you want. But it's the truth."

There was silence.

"Well, if you want to die, it's not my problem. Twenty thousand."

"Excuse me?"

"For the trip."

"That's..."

"If you don't have the money to pay for it, you can always serve me as payment. "Or turn around and look for luck elsewhere. Or turn around and look for luck elsewhere. But with me it'll be twenty thousand or nothing. Don't think you can haggle. "He lowered his legs". Or that I'm being 'unfair'. It can be done, but it's a dangerous thing to do, and not just for you. Of course, to do it I need proper compensation. I wouldn't stick my neck out for less. Do you understand?"

Desmond thought about it.

But he really had no choice. Beyond the question of whether there was another crime boss with the resources to give him what he wanted, chances were he wouldn't find a better offer.

On the contrary.

"I can pay. And I will pay," Desmond said.

Right now, he was empty-handed. But Amy said she would arrange things so he could take money out of her account.

He felt bad for depending on her like that, the thought of taking so much money from her....

But he had no choice.

Even if he hadn't given that girl the bag of money, he wouldn't have had enough money saved up to pay for half of it.

He had brought enough money to survive on the road.

To get food, lodging.

But not for something like this.

It was unfortunate, but he would be sure to make up for it in the future.

Somehow.

"You don't look like you have that much money," Roman said, slowly, and after a while.

"I do."

He had access to it. Twenty thousand. It was not a sum to laugh at, but for the Sunderland family fortune, that was practically nothing..... He said it as if to assuage his sense of guilt.

Again his characteristic selfishness.

He had said he couldn't accept that. However, when push came to shove, he had proven himself willing to depend on Amy's kindness at the drop of a hat.

I'm sorry. Whether it's a little or a lot, I'm sorry.

"I got it. But not here. I'll have to go to the bank to withdraw it."

Or should...? Should he try his luck with something else?

This was the first crime boss he'd ever tried to contact. Desmond couldn't say he didn't have a better option when he hadn't explored his options thoroughly, when he hadn't even tried.

It would be prolonging the inevitable.

One way or another, he would end up having to pay, and for that he would have to dip into Amy's money.

But...

He should have thought of all this before.

But, in his haste, with anxiety gripping his heart, those thoughts had surfaced in his mind only now.

He had to make a decision quickly.

He did.

Desmond turned, walked to the door. Roman's men stepped into his path. Surrounding him.

"Where are you going?"

Desmond looked at Roman out of the corner of his eye.

"You don't want this fight."

"Wow, guys. This stranger thinks he's so wise. Yeah, he even thinks his wisdom extends to the insides of my noggin. You don't know me. But now I'll let you know who I am. I'm a very simple man, at heart. When I want something, I take it. And if I can't have it, I'll make sure no one else does."

Desmond frowned, still looking sideways at Roman.

His trained body was tense, ready to jump at any moment.

"Do you understand? You can stay here and do business with us properly. Or you can turn your back on us. Then we'll take your money and kill you. Your choice. I know what I would choose if I were in your place. But you choose."

Desmond gave it serious consideration.

Was it really worth going that far? He was finally going to have to do it, one way or another. Take money out of Amy's bank account. Face that feeling of guilt.

But he had no real choice.

After trying to leave, they weren't going to let him turn around and proceed as if nothing had happened.

Desmond reached for the pommel of his sword.

"Get him!"

Desmond bent, dodging the first attack. The blade of the enemy's sword passed over him. It passed just inches from his body.

He stood upright and swung his sword.

The blow buried it in the neck of the first to approach.

That was all.

He didn't use a drop of magic.

If he had made use of physical reinforcement as usual, he would have sent the head flying with ease. Without having to try.

He had screwed up now, but he was dead anyway.

Desmond released the sword from the open wound.

What would soon be a corpse slumped to the ground like a child's discarded toy.

"You couldn't take no for an answer," Desmond said, over the sound of the man miserably drowning in his own blood.

Even in the face of this spectacle, Roman remained calm.

He hadn't yet realized the depth of his mistake.

He had to believe that the death of one of these men was just an anomaly that would never happen again.

That he would soon be outnumbered by the rest of his men and killed for daring to challenge him. He would show that pretentious little gangster with whom he had picked a fight!

A man carrying a spear charged at him.

Spears weren't good weapons.

They could only go in a straight line, unlike swords, which could effectively strike from any direction.

Their only advantage was range.

But the enemy had abandoned his only advantage by choosing to approach him instead of waiting, ready to skewer him.

So his fate was sealed.

Desmond dodged the attack. At the last second, he spun and grabbed the enemy by the shoulders.

Taking advantage of the momentum of the attack, he spun him toward another of the enemies that had him surrounded.

It couldn't be avoided.

The enemy's spear ended up skewered in one of his buddies. Not him.

Taking advantage of the moment of shock, Desmond pierced the back of the spearman's head with his sword, splitting it like a melon.

The juices inside spread everywhere.

Three dead in less than three seconds.

Seeing that horrible spectacle, they began to take him seriously. They kept their distance from him or even moved away. Their weapons were raised, ready for a fight, but still none of them took a step forward.

It was Roman who broke that paralysis.

"What are you waiting for? He's only one man. Finish him off."

He shifted his stance, lowered his center of gravity.

Yes. He was one man.

Dealing with the men in this room would be a relatively simple thing to do, even though he wasn't using magic.

But the entire building was full of people who now wanted him dead.

It wouldn't be so easy to escape from here alive.

Winning was a possibility only by using physical reinforcement.

But he didn't want to draw attention to himself.

That is, no more than he already had.

He would only resort to his magic if he literally had no other choice.

That much he had decided.

They all lunged for him, together this time, overcoming surprise and fear.

Desmond wasn't afraid.

He didn't rely solely on the superhuman body that the reinforcement magic granted him. He could manage even without that.

He was nothing special, a genius or anything.

But he could at least manage. Besides, these guys couldn't even fight.

They were nothing but thugs.

Compared to everything he had faced before he got here, they were a joke, no, not even that.

They weren't even funny.

They were less than nothing.

Three more fell quickly. He had to deal with the men in this room and corner Roman before reinforcements arrived. That was his only chance to gain control of the situation.

That is, to gain it without using his magic.

He couldn't just jump out the window, forgetting to fight.

The fall would kill him if he didn't reinforce himself.

So that was his best trump card.

Desmond took advantage of a moment of respite in the fight to drag a piece of furniture against the door, blocking it. It wouldn't hold forever, of course. But at least it would buy him time.

As he turned around, he heard a loud noise.

Something like a detonation.

A gunshot, he thought.

Exclamations of surprise.

The bullet had ricocheted off the edge of his sword and had ended up punching a hole in the wall.

"What?"

"How is that possible?"

Roman was the one who had shot him.

He had done it while his back was turned, so he hadn't seen it coming, hadn't been able to react before he pulled the trigger, but after.

The bullet had come dangerously close.

It would have blown his brains out had he not resorted to his magic.

Desmond had done it to save his life. He had had no other choice.

"Is he a mage?" Roman asked himself, completely astonished, without taking his eyes off him.

But in doing so, he had exposed himself.

Tipping the scales in one direction. It was so easy for things to go from bad to worse.