Johan didn't normally dream, but that night he was a child again, back in the compound. Three boys were kicking another boy, who was on the ground. Their victim was being one-sidedly beaten, but he was still struggling to retaliate against his attackers, despite the apparent futility.
It has nothing to do with you. Just keep walking.
The boy's bright, angry eyes seemed to be able to see through anything. He was covered in dirt and blood, but something about him seemed strangely innocent. How could anything be innocent in this place?
Just keep walking.
The young boy had soft curls, a perfectly shaped face, and eyes the same shocking shade of blue as his own. He looked almost like a tiny angel.
Keep walking.
If the boy was injured too badly here, he would probably not be able to survive the month.
Don't do anything useless. It doesn't matter anyway.
If it didn't matter anyway, then he'd do what he wanted.
The older boy walked up to the group of children.
"Get out of here, you little shits. Your nasty faces are making me lose my appetite," he said in a tone of obvious provocation. It wasn't the best insult, but he wasn't experienced at this.
The leader of the trio sneered at him.
"Why don't you make me?"
He was a few years older than the trio, and large for his age. Even back then, he had been a combat prodigy.
He punched the leader in the face. They stopped kicking the younger boy and spread out around him.
Despite it being three against one, he was holding them off, when the boy on the ground got up, grabbed the leader from behind, and started to strangle him.
It became two against one; he could handle that easily enough. By the time the leader escaped the younger boy's chokehold, his allies had already run away. The leader hastened to join them.
The younger boy started to brush off the dirt.
"Why did you help me?"
The older boy knew that it was stupid to reveal the truth, but for some reason, he really didn't want to lie to this kid.
"I felt bad for you," he answered honestly.
"Empathy? Is that not useless?" the younger boy looked at him curiously.
"It's useful to you that I have it, isn't it?"
The younger boy considered for a moment, then nodded.
"You make a good point. I have no reason to reject something advantageous."
The older boy gave him a wry smile.
"They won't leave you alone with just this. Will you be okay?"
"Uncertain. They will come back for me later. I will try to kill them first, and if I fail, I'll die," the younger boy responded in an informative tone.
"I have a better idea. Why don't you stick with me?"
Although they had been in constant danger back then, it was somehow a pleasant dream. But like all dreams, it faded into wakefulness and Johan was left sitting up on his bed, starting at something that no longer existed.
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Then he started laughing again. He used to be such a pathetic idiot that the thought of his past almost made him cringe. He truly hadn't understood anything.
Yet despite that, he didn't regret saving Solomon.
He really wanted to go kill something.
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I first met my brother when I was four. Back then, if you had to look at our personalities and guess which of us would become the serial killer when we grew up, almost everyone would've picked me. (Although, I think some people would ask if they could vote for us both.)
To this day, I don't know why he decided to trust me. When I asked him, he said it was because I was the only one there who was really a child.
He was only a bit older than me, so I don't know what the hell he was on about, trying to act deep.
Deep or not, I had to admit he had saved me. It wasn't long until the others didn't dare to cross me, but he was there for me in that crucial period of time before I understood how to deal with people.
Empathy is more of a capacity than an emotion. It leads to inconvenient things like guilt.
None of us were supposed to have it. My brother's admission when we first met could also be considered him exposing a critical weakness. Since then, we had each other's backs.
Years of love, trust and sacrifice. The strongest bonds in the world. These things couldn't be replaced by a young face, some affectionate words and an attempt to use me for protection.
I told myself that the brother I loved is dead. I wasn't sure if it was true, but that wouldn't change what I had to do. My brother was nothing like the Johan of today.
Mad dogs should be put out of their misery.
What is true, though, is that I thoroughly despise it when people pretend to treat me as their sibling.
For the record, I didn't deliberately kill Sandy or anything for that reason. I merely disliked her. It didn't go much beyond that.
I went back to the campsite to tell my party the news.
"Sandy was killed by the criminals. I failed to save her."
Maurice and her group were predictably upset that I had not informed them if I was going to attack early.
Cindy was looking at me desperately and calling me a liar. The rest of the group seemed angry.
As experienced adventurers, they should've known better. I responded to their accusations.
"What could you have done, even if you were there with me? Stand there and let them kill you, your husband, and your subordinate? A pair of close ranger fighters and a healer like you would have no chance of saving her in that situation if even a mage like me failed."
Maurice grit her teeth. She didn't like it, but she knew I was right.
Mages and snipers were far more effective than fighters when there was a situation where a hostage taker could kill someone with a twitch. Doubly so in a situation where there were many weak enemies.
Also, I truly believed that I had taken the action that minimized loss of life to my party, which would give me a legal defense if it came to that. Abandoning those who could not be saved was a common thing among people who survived for any length of time.
Given that Sandy had wandered in a dangerous area without protection and gotten taken hostage by criminals, the police wouldn't put many resources into investigating.
Maurice backed down, but she was still clearly angry.
Cindy, on the other hand, came up to me crying and tried to slap me in the face, calling me a 'piece of shit'.
I knocked her hand aside, raised an eyebrow, and smiled at her.
"I see I'm not your 'big brother' anymore?"
When I said that, she looked like she really wanted to kill me.
She might actually try at some point, but I don't believe in preemptively murdering currently innocent people.
At this point, the entire group was glaring at me with hostility.
Maurice rested her hand on Cindy's shoulder.
"Alright," I said, "Thank you for inviting me to try joining your party. I see we have some differences in outlook that will make working together a challenging endeavor. I'll be taking my leave."
With that, I left.
I could find my way back to the city by myself and would rather not spend it traveling with people who I didn't get along well with.
As I walked along the road, I heard the sound of screaming. A woman was running towards me. Again.
I could feel a headache oncoming already.
"Help me!" She shouted, "Please!"
At least this time she wasn't trying to frame me, I guess. I'd take what I could get.
She seemed to be quite well dressed, so she was probably wealthy. She was being chased by a group of people who were dressed like bandits, but they were moving in a way that suggested formal training. Assassins?
Since she wasn't faking it or deliberately trying to get me killed—if the ones chasing her were planning to kill all witnesses, they'd kill me regardless of what she said and if not, they'd probably leave me alone if I ignored it—I could at least hear her out.
I enveloped her in a solid barrier.
"Hey," I said, "Care to explain what's going on here?"
"Please, save me," she panted. That wasn't particularly useful, but expecting a proper answer had been a stretch.
I turned to the 'bandits' who were pointing weapons at me. One of them looked to be a mage.
There were only five of them, but they seemed professional.
The mage turned to the others.
"Careful, he knows what he's doing."
"Excuse me," I said, "Would one of you mind letting me know why you're chasing this woman?"