“You two sacks of shit, come help this brother.”

Zetsubo and Kashoku instantly froze, cursing their luck. Reluctantly they turned towards the voice, yet their faces did not betray their emotions. From with the last villa on the street a face resembling the chubbiness and softness of a baby’s emerged. This baby face was situated on top of a large body resembling a robust young man, one with a layer of excess blubber and wide shoulders.

“This peasant greets the Young Master Akachan,” Zetsubo and Kashoku bowed and spoke in unision. This young man was a noble, and the two friends would not carelessly anger one for fear of their political power.

The Young Master looked at them bowing and licked his lips, a sick smile erupting on his baby face.

Suddenly his face turned red in rage, and his expression became exceeding ugly. He took quick steps forward and exclaimed, “Has no one taught you how to behave in front of a noble? Get on the ground you filthy beings!” He brought his foot up to Kashoku’s head and proceeded to push him violently face first into the ground.

“Your bright hair is sickening; let me help you change its color.” To prove his point he left his shoe on Kashoku’s head, twisting and turning his leg to leave as much dirt as possible in Kashoku’s hair. He sneered at these poor beings, reveling in his sense of superiority. After a few seconds he had enough fun with this light haired brat and snapped his gaze to Zetsubo.

What he saw shocked him. The boy was no longer bowing; instead his whole body was taut like a bowstring pulled as far back as possible. And he was obviously an arrow. His face seemed calm and serene. There was not a single crease visible, yet a few strands of his hair parted leaving his right eye completely visible.

This eye exuded a frightening aura, and the Young Master felt his soul shake when he looked into this blue eye. He felt like he was looking into a raging ocean, an immovable mountain and the endless sky. Once he realized he felt intimidated, his fury knew no bounds.

“This fucker, you think you are better than me? I will show you just how inferior you are to me!” He stepped forward and hastily smacked Zetsubo with as much power as he could muster.

Zetsubo did not flinch. Instead, when the hand hit him, he just continued staring as the Young Master screamed, holding his hand in agony. At the same time the fear that the Young Master first felt from Zetsubo’s eyes multiplied.

‘What the hell did he do?! It felt like I was punching a mountain of stone!’ The Young Master could not understand what had happened, and he was beginning to panic. Originally he wanted the two peasants to carry his villa’s feces to the river, and perhaps he would push them in after it. Yet now he had absolutely lost the initiative and was not in the position to demand anything.

So he played his last card.

He shouted, “You bastards! I’ll tell Big Brother about this and you’ll wish you were dead!”

He was then magnificently and extravagantly slapped in the face and flew over twenty meters back into his villa.

“Hopefully he hit his head against a stone wall and won’t wake up for the next few days, then we’ll have one person less that screams his head off in the morning. Honestly, I was just about to take a nap.” A man suddenly appeared, clapping his hands together in satisfaction as if he had done a good deed.

The previous tension completely dissipated, and Zetsubo instantly crumpled together.

“Woah there buddy, don’t die on me all of a sudden.” The man quickly moved, catching Zetsubo’s falling body and hauled his unconscious body over the shoulder.

“And you Whitey, get up. It’s embarrassing how long you’ve been down there, unless you want to prove the overgrown manchild right, that you were made for dirt and slums or whatever.”

Kashoku stood up with wide eyes, staring at the man in wonderment. He had seen what happened to the Young Master, and while he was sure he was stronger than the Young Master, this man sent him flying from a simple slap. He might be more powerful than the “overgrown manchild”, but never would he be THAT much stronger.

Seeing the expression that “Whitey” had on his face made the man stick out his chest with pride, saying, “I know I’m awesome, right?”

Kashoku’s eyebrows twitched, and he stayed silent.

The man laughed in his sense of superiority and awesomeness, then softened his voice slightly and told Kashoku, “I’ll be taking buddy here with me, I’m gonna take care of him and all that crap for the time being. You need to go to instruction; you know how they treat skipping class here.”

Kashoku was immediately doused in a cold feeling of horror, and quickly bowed saying, “Thank you sir, please take good care of him. I’ll be on my way.” He urgently turned and hurried back to his broken dorm room.

After a few steps a thought crossed Kashoku’s mind.

‘Huh, why did I leave him with a complete stranger? In fact, what did the man even look like?’ No matter how much he tried to remember, he could not recall the man’s appearance. Hastily turning around once more to look for the man, he only saw a few people hurrying to class, and not a single man carrying his friend.

Confused and concerned he returned to his room and set off for class.

-------

‘This guy is burning up, he’s even beginning to shake. This isn’t good, but what the hell happened to this guy? Why did he faint all of a sudden?’ The man carrying Zetsubo was rapidly becoming more and more concerned about the boy, and rushed to a modest residence in a small forest within the walls.

The building was basically a hut, one room of about twelve square meters containing a bed, some furniture such as a table and a few chairs, and a wardrobe. There were also various weapons strewed chaotically along the floor.

He laid Zetsubo on the bed, and pursed his lips, thinking about what he should do. The child in front of him was sweating terribly, and a single look could tell you something was not right. Sadly, this man was completely clueless when it came to treating someone.

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‘I should probably get the old hag…’ he thought. He swiftly left the hut, sprinting through the forest…

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In Zetsubo’s mind.

He was in a dark room, the smell of rotting corpses wafting through the air. This room was huge, at least a square kilometer large, and completely pitch black. Scuffling noises, the occasional thud of blunt impact and grunting filled the room with a quiet menace. Suddenly there was a scream, an insane laughter and the scuttling of hundreds of things could be heard, rushing towards the scream.

Zetsubo was frozen in fear; the atmosphere within this room was too frightening.

Zetsubo had long lost a sense of time. He felt like he had been in here forever, and he could feel the hopelessness of starvation beginning to usurp his common sense. He could feel his instincts take over, throwing caution to the wind. He forced himself to stay seated as long as possible, hoping some change would come, but after an eternity of nothing he gave in and stood up. By now he was a weak and haggard thing, walking hunched over with crazed eyes and spit dripping from his half open mouth.

He walked and walked, hoping to find something.

After six hundred steps he froze, to his right he could hear slurping sounds. This went along with the sound of an animal feasting on his prey.

Feasting. Food. These words took control of Zetsubo’s mind, driving him towards this sound. He couldn’t see anything, and his ears were his only guide.

Suddenly the sounds stopped, and Zetsubo very clearly felt something dangerous was focusing on him. He instantly stopped, holding his breath.

The sound of chains being dragged across the ground slowly drifted to his ears. He dared not move.

Suddenly… something touched his left arm. It was a slippery and left behind a warm liquid. Zetsubo lost his reason. He struck out to his left, connecting with this thing and hearing a light thud. Zetsubo screamed his challenge to this thing, rushing towards the impact he had felt, tripping on what presumably was the thing on the ground.

Zetsubo searched with his frantic hands for the things form, finding limbs resembling arms and legs. On instinct, he followed the figure to where presumably the neck was, and began pressuring the form with all the strength he could muster.

But the thing was not easy prey, it began flailing about and with great strength kicked and punched Zetsubo, but he did not relent. He continued, his mouth turning into a crazed grin and shouted gibberish in his madness.

Slowly the thing calmed, and Zetsubo also halted his cries. His body racked with pain and barely able to breath, he swung his head back and began cackling, driven to insanity by the fact he had finally found food.

In the distance a rumbling could be heard, but Zetsubo paid no attention to it. He had finally found something he could eat.

Tearing at the being, his fingers turned to claws and he began eating the thing raw. His front quickly became soaked with blood, but he celebrated the fact that he had something to satiate his hunger and quickened his pace. The rumbling rapidly drew closer, but Zetsubo did not notice.

The only thing he did notice was another thing bumping into him, and an ear splitting scream erupting from this thing after the contact. Zetsubo halted his meal, suddenly becoming aware of the rumbling coming from everywhere around him. He pushed the thing off of him, running as quickly as possible in a rondom direction.

But after ten meters he felt another impact and fell to the floor, and another scream resounded through the huge area from right in front of him. He could not do anything else.

Suddenly tens of hands fell on him, grabbing him and ripping his flesh, tearing him apart bit by bit. He howled, fighting against the mob of limbs attacking him but there were simply too many. He felt teeth bite off his ear, a hand rip his kneecap. Another pierced his stomach and began ripping out his intestines.

Blood erupted from his mouth, choking him and stopping his scream. Another hand entered his mouth, pulling his tongue. Zetsubo wished he would fall unconscious, wished he would finally die, but it was not to be. He continued to feel the agony of these things feeding on him, and only once he felt his heart be torn out of his chest and destroyed did his consciousness fade away.

Right before he was completely senseless, a voice resonated in his mind, ‘Do you remember?’

Then everything was calm.

----------------

“ - looks dead if you ask me.” A man’s voice filled the air.

“Well I’m not asking, am I? Just soak these and come back, and for god’s sake shut your mouth.”

“Fine, I’m just saying there’s no way-“

“GET OUT!”

Zetsubo slowly opened his eyes, unable to focus them. He turned his head and saw a hazed outline of a woman. He tried to ask her where he was, but his throat was too dry and all he could manage was a croak.

At that the woman whirled around, and now he could make out thousands of wrinkles lining the face. ‘This woman must be ancient’ he thought.

“Good, you’re awake. Don’t try to speak, here’s something to drink.”

Zetsubo felt a cup press against his lips, then a cold liquid run down his throat. He gave a surprised grunt, the liquid tasted of homemade cake.

The grandma beside him laughed, enjoying his reaction.

His eyesight slowly improved and he began to look around him. He found himself in a small room covered by various skins of different animals, creating the mood of a relatively clean and high-class hut.

He tried again, “Where-“

A shout interrupted him, originating from outside the hut. “You old hag I’m back, here’s the cloth you forced me to soak.”

A man entered the hut, and was promptly greeted by a flying pan in the face.