I bumped into someone. He was considerably shorter than me, and his face contorted in irritation beneath the thick beard he wore on his chin, probably to appear more imposing than he actually was. I glared at him, feeling the constant stress of today's events churning at my insides, but averted my gaze as I noticed a pair of men tracing behind him.

Their augmentations were in no way comparable to Jacob's. They were scratched in serval places and appeared to be made out of copper. The tubes themselves were filthy, indicating that they hadn't been cleaned in a long time. Their statures were quite commanding, too. Rather tall, but their frame lacked a lot of mass.

If that wasn't enough to scare me, perhaps the way those two slowly surrounded me without saying anything as I made up my mind was.

I was carrying a valuable dagger. Something that didn't belong to me. In order to receive my reward, I needed to return it to its owner as soon as possible. I reasoned that simply bumping into someone wasn't enough of a reason to engage in a fight in which I was painfully outclassed.

"I'm sorry," I grumbled, ignoring the reason why I ran into him was because of the fact that I hadn't noticed him in the first place.

He drew his cloak, revealing a gun tucked into his pants. My eyes widened slightly, realizing this wasn't a joke and that things might get serious soon as his voice trailed into a growl, "You'd better be."

Calm down, Gray. He's merely bluffing, I told myself. Both, Ethan and Lavender stated that using a gun was frowned upon within the Underworld. There was no way he'd actually use it...

Seeing one in person, however, was not a pleasant experience.

The lanky thugs were at my sides, ready to strike at any given moment. Although I never considered it, the power that an augmented limb could produce was detrimental. I doubted I'd be able to escape if either of them laid a hand on me.

It'd be best to handle this situation peacefully.

I clenched my teeth and stared into the ground, avoiding the shortest gaze, who also appeared to be the ringleader. "I'm truly sorry."

Don't pick a fight. You've already lowered your head serval times before. It shouldn't matter if you do it again, right? That was the only conclusion that came to mind.

He gave a pompous grin when as he saw my reaction.

"Fantastic, but I'm afraid we can't end things this way. You must understand the consequences of your actions, and what happens when you offend someone you clearly shouldn't," said the bearded one, his smile fading as he ordered: "Grab him."

I tried to put some distance between us, but a terrible ache raced through my shoulder and all the way down to my fingertips, keeping me from running. One of them had already dug his fingers into my flesh with a force I never believed anyone could muster. Despite the fact that I wanted to cry, I kept my trap closed and didn't say anything. I was certain that provoking them any further would be counterproductive.

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"Into the alley," the shorter of the three ordered, without checking to see if his goons were following. I tried to wiggle out, but the other one grabbed my free arm. He leaned in closer, exposing the rusty metal sprouting from his shoulder to the side of his neck and just below his eye, muttering something barely audible, "If you want to live, don't fight back. It'll be over soon."

Shouldn't I be doing exactly the opposite? My gaze darted from one side to the other. Several people looked at me. Some were indifferent, while others didn't even bother to look at the commotion. After all, they couldn't be interested in what happened to someone like me.

A tremor swept through my body as I realized none of them were willing to intervene. My knees abruptly gave out on me, leaving the majority of my weight in the augmented hands of my captors.

Despite my desire to flee, I was dragged into the alley.

The other two yanked me to my feet as the ringleader steadied himself.

He bashed his fist into my stomach without any warning, as if it were nothing out of the ordinary for him. I tightened my abdomen, hoping to keep him from doing too much harm. Fortunately, unlike his augmented lackeys, he didn't have the strength to deal a significant blow.

When he realized I wasn't having it, the ringleader's bushy brows creased in irritation, and for a brief moment, pity flickered across the features of the man whose face was covered in metal, as though he knew what was going to happen.

"Let go of him," the bearded man ordered, readying himself to throw a kick.

The moment they let go, I felt the sudden rush of blood circulating again through my numb limbs. Despite being released, I realized it wasn't the time to celebrate yet. I twisted my body to evade his strike, but his heel still landed in the same spot he had previously targeted. This time, however, the blow knocked me to the ground.

He stared at me as if I were some repulsive creature and growled, "You're really stubborn."

Then, like a wild beast, he stomped on me. I curled into a ball and pressed my back against the wall, shielding my head and upper chest with my arms from the majority of the barrage that poured down on top of my ribs, hip, and thigh. Each blow sent a shiver throughout my entire body.

"P-please," I begged, unable to bear it any longer. "Stop..."

"You get what you fucking deserve," he roared, thrilled as one of his kicks passed through my guard, digging the tip of his foot straight into my abdomen. I gulped down the vomit that was surging up my throat.

Panting like a deranged dog, he said, "We're done here."

The other two followed him out of the alley, casting me a reluctant gaze. Don't give me that to me right now, I thought. It's a shame no one showed any sympathy when actually I needed it.

Worse, I knew they could have killed me and thrown my corpse into the dumpster if they really wanted to.

I spat on the ground, hoping to get rid of the vomit-like taste in the back of my throat. It was excruciating. That last blow was powerful, but thankfully, that pompous midget didn't notice the dagger or the badge by chance.

That is why I allowed myself to be hit in the first place and did not fight back. I was concerned the entire time that my hood would come off or that he would discover I was carrying something important. If I had been obstinate, I'm sure he would have escalated things even further just to show off his superiority over me.

If he wasn't satisfied with the performance I put on, he always had the option of exposing my face. Worse, he could have snatched my possessions on the spur of the moment and I wouldn't have been able to do anything about it.

Even if I had tried to resist, I doubted I could have landed a solid hit. No, the odds of just reaching him were slim due to the lackeys surrounding him. They weren't even serious, yet they still managed to show the disparity in strength there was between us.

Glaring at their backs through the veil cast by the alley, the elder's concerns became painfully obvious to me. Once I thought they had gotten far enough, I buried my fingers into the fissure that ran across the wall, struggling to rise as I felt some of my bones popping.

Because everything went so smoothly up until now, it appears I had forgotten just what kind of place the Underworld was.

A vindictive setting where anything and everything could happen.

The beating I took was enough to remind me of that.