The jail cell was a bit dirty, but not as bad as one would expect. There was a bucket in the corner we could use to go to the bathroom, but it was empty, and there was no waste from the previous tenant anywhere. It was dusty, with some grime stuck to the stone walls, not to mention the rusted bars that were supposed to stop us from leaving. Or at least they were supposed to. I was pretty sure I would be able to break us out without any issues if we needed to.

The System confirmed that the door was its own thing and not part of the entire cell. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable night of my life, but it was far from being bad, especially since the place was dry and we still had our cloaks. I turned to speak with Astrid, but noticed how the other prisoners were whispering to one another. So instead, I reached my foot toward hers, touching them through our shoes before sending her a message.

Cassandra: You nodded before, but I wanted to double-check. Are you okay with us being here for the night?

Astrid: I’m fine. It’s better than sleeping outside.

Cassandra: That’s true. At least here we won’t have to worry about bugs finding us in the middle of the night.

Astrid: But that was really funny.

I rolled my eyes.

Cassandra: Only for you.

Astrid: Exactly.

The Frosted Lumberjack smiled. She was talking about what happened the day after she finished our cloaks. We ended up sleeping in the forest on top of one of the trees. I took the first shift. But when it was my time to wake up, there was a cicada resting on my nose. Seeing a large bug first thing in the morning freaked me out, and I started yelling. I even tumbled to the side and fell down the tree.

Cassandra: I’m glad someone enjoyed that. I had to use {Body Regeneration} after the fall.

Astrid: Did you get hurt?

Cassandra: Just scraped my arm, but since I have that skill, why not use it to fix smaller things like that? It makes no sense to leave it to get infected.

Astrid: That shouldn’t make a difference. Did you clean it properly?

I nodded.

Cassandra: Used a bit of aloe from the supplies before using the skill. Besides, it’s hard for us to get sick with our level of Body. Unless the germs are affected by the System. Oh crap, is that even possible?

System: It is an unlikely scenario. However, bacteria being affected by System is theoretically possible.

Cassandra: Great, it’s not like we already had enough to worry about.

Before we could continue our conversation, a voice started echoing through the jail. It was a man, and it seemed like there was a softer, younger voice following him.

“Come here, you little shit!” the man growled. There was the sound of someone small hitting the ground after his words.

“I’m sorry,” the weak voice of a child said. It sounded like a boy, but it was hard to tell. I glanced at Astrid, who also seemed to only be able to hear because of our increased attributes. That was how soft the voice was.

“Look around! This is where you belong! Together with the filth and waste that lives here,” the man snarled again. He was yelling loudly, causing some of the prisoners to try to shush him, but he ignored any attempt to make him lower his voice.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Carlson,” the small voice said.

What followed was the loud sound of a slap, and Astrid was about to get up, but I gestured for her to stop.

Cassandra: I know it sucks, but it’s not our business. We’re technically in jail right now; we can’t do anything to help.

Astrid: Why not? We have the power to do something about this.

Cassandra: That’s exactly why. Just because we have the power doesn’t mean we have the right to force others to do what we want them to do, even if they’re being absolute bastards to someone. We don’t know what happened.

The Frosted Lumberjack squinted at me.

Astrid: What could possibly be the reason for someone to treat a child like that?

Cassandra: Maybe they killed someone. Maybe they followed a hunting party and caused their deaths. I’m not saying I agree with what’s happening here, but we don’t have the full story. And it’s possible that they’re doing this for the good of the child. Parenting is hard.

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll never talk to Cris—” another slap followed the voice.

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“Don’t you dare use my daughter’s name with your filthy mouth. She is better than you. She has a family. She wasn’t abandoned in the middle of the forest because no one wanted her. And you are not going to ruin my plans for her. She doesn’t have time to waste with people who are better off dead.”

Hearing that, Astrid gave me a blank stare.

“I take back everything I said. Let’s go.”

I was leaning against the bars, and it took only a moment to reach out my hand and trigger {Compression} to increase the size of the door. There was a loud creak as the bars tried to push themselves out of the hinges, but they held strong. That was until Astrid gently tapped the screws holding everything in place, popping them out of their sockets, and the door came out in my hands.

“What was that?” the man asked with an angry voice.

I ignored him and did the same thing again on the small grate that was holding our weapons. While Astrid opened that, I used {Compression} one more time to turn the now free door of the cell into something smaller.

Stepping out, I was able to take a look at the man and the child he was yelling at. The boy was no older than eight. He wore tattered clothes that were far too big for him and covered in stains, some that looked like blood, though they could also be tomato sauce. His hair was a mess, he was barefoot, and there was a clear bruise around his neck, as if someone had snapped a necklace that had been resting on his chest.

The man, on the other hand, was short but wore well-groomed clothes, the type that was very hard to maintain in today’s world. It wasn’t exactly a suit and tie, but my guess was that it was the closest thing he could find to one. He had a shaved face and a long, twirly mustache. His hair was starting to go bald on the top of his head, but the sides were still long.

Both of them were illuminated by an oil lamp resting on a hook on the ceiling.

"Who are you? What are you doing outside your cells? Get back there. You have no right to be outside," the man barked at me. Honestly, for some reason, he made me think of a chihuahua. I had seen pictures of them before, and they showed up in a few of the movies I watched—extremely angry, extremely annoying, and thinking they were much bigger than they actually were.

He was holding the boy by his hair, clearly hurting the child as he couldn’t stand up completely, but was still too high to be on his knees. Without wasting any time, I flung the cell door that was still in my hand like a frisbee. The metal grate spun in the air a couple of times before slamming into the man and shoving him into the wall.

The edges of the door had long since rusted away, leaving only the pattern of vertical bars with empty spaces in between. That was exactly where the man was hit, in between the rusted protrusions, which embedded themselves into the back wall by the staircase. He was now trapped, with his neck and one of his hands stuck inside the grate. With his free arm, he didn’t have enough strength to pull away, and the child was now free from his grasp.

Astrid walked out, passed me my staff, and took a look at what I had done. "Nice throw."

"Thank you," I replied, silently thanking my luck. Hearing what he told the child made me really angry, and part of me wanted to just kill him then and there. But that wasn’t a good idea. Not only would it traumatize the boy, but it would also cause a whole suite of problems for me. And, I guess, it wouldn’t be right to kill someone just because they were an asshole, even if he was beating a child like this.

"What! Release me at once!" the man yelled.

"Stop shouting! You’re already making too much noise. What if an Eater comes?" one of the prisoners shushed him.

I turned to Astrid, who nodded, already understanding what we needed to do. I had told her about my fights against the Eaters. None of the ones I fought were as strong as the Ice Devil, but I was sure there were some that could be even stronger. Still, as long as we weren’t facing an enemy above Tier 1, we should be able to handle anything.

Ignoring the man and his shouts, I kneeled down in front of the kid. "Hey there. Sorry for scaring you. I just wanted to stop the mean man from hurting you."

"You didn’t have to. I deserve this. I’m filthy and shouldn’t get close to Christina. Mr. Carlson is right," the boy replied, fighting back tears.

I took a deep breath and turned to Astrid. "Nose? Or do you think hand?"

She paused for a moment, seriously considering my question. After a couple of seconds, the Frosted Lumberjack nodded. "Nose." Without even looking in his direction, Astrid delivered a quick jab to the man’s nose. It was far from being her full strength, in fact, I’d be surprised if she used even a tenth of her full power. But it was already enough. The man let out a loud yell and started to sob.

"My nose, my nose!" he cried, holding it with his free hand.

"Plug your nostrils. Since you can’t look up, you need to do that or you might bleed out," I told him before looking back at the kid, who had a worried expression as he glanced at the man. I winked at him and tried to smile playfully. He seemed to understand my intention and relaxed a bit. It was very hard to bleed out from a broken nose, after all.

"Noise outside," Astrid said while looking toward the stairs.

I couldn’t hear anything yet, but {Predatory Sense} picked up minor vibrations, as if people were running on the floor above us.

Turning to the kid again, I asked, "I don’t think this is a good place for you to stay. Do you mind if I carry you outside?"

"I can walk," the boy replied and tried to get up, but failed. At some point, he had sprained his ankle.

"Are you sure? I’m stronger than I look. I promise I won’t drop you."

The boy looked down, then sheepishly nodded.

Still holding my staff, I picked him up with one arm, which made him giggle in surprise. Only then did we start going up the stairs to see what was happening outside. Astrid followed, taking the lamp along.

We were just at the top of the stairs when a man with pitch-black hair wearing a long brown leather coat appeared, accompanied by a couple of guards.

"What is going on down here? Did you make all that noise trying to escape? Are you trying to kill us all?" the man asked.

"There was a guy already screaming before we started making noise. And he was beating the crap out of this kid just because he lost his parents? I don’t really understand, but I wasn’t just going to sit around and do nothing while a child was beaten like that," I explained.

"It’s the truth," the boy added.

The man frowned. "What? That doesn’t matter. I can see you have weapons, so you’re going to have to help."

"Help?" Astrid asked.

"With what? Is there a monster attacking?" I added.

"Worse. An Eater."