Marcus thumped the round table, producing a loud bang that echoed the room. The implements above it fell on the ground laden with dirt.

“Shit!”

He could not see the faces of the people around him because the room was only dimly lit, with the only light source came from one candle that was about to be consumed. But he was with them for a long time now. He knew they were disappointed.

“We were so close! If only Jake targeted the right car!” said Theo as he applied a cloth compress on his wound. Dirt and grease crept in him, as well as on most of the men in the room. He considered himself as still lucky compared to their comrades who did not come back.

Most of the men showed their agreement. Their voices were conspicuously low, perhaps saddened by what had happened earlier.

“It’s not my fault. I was attacked by a soldier!”

Theo snapped and grabbed the man’s neck. “Do you know how many we lost today and all for nothing because of your failure? They died for nothing because of you!”

“That’s enough!” Marcus interjected. He swallowed his anger and moved through the middle of the room where everyone can see him. “We can’t fight among ourselves, not right now.

We failed to kill that bastard, and we are probably being hunted by the government now. We–”

“Leader! He brought Tristan.” A man came to them, lifting their wounded companion in his arms. Along with him, another man was restraining a boy of seventeen. The boy in question wore a uniform of a famous university in the country, and his hair was smooth that seemed to imply he was from a financially capable family.

“We’ll talk later.”

He signaled his men to treat Tristan, who was on the verge of life and death. They laid him on the ground, undressed him, and inserted a bundle of cloth in his mouth. Lacking medical supplies, they used tweezers to get the fragments of the bullet in his arm. Hospital was not an option, as an even grimmer fate waited for them there.

Marcus moved closer to the boy, revealing his healthy stature. The lad’s hands shook, trying to back away, but his captor prevented him from doing so.

“What are we going to do with the boy? Do we let him go?” asked the man, restraining the boy.

“We can’t. He might tip us off to the soldiers.” Theo stood before him, inspecting the boy. He touched the bag that they captured from him, feeling its leather that ran through his hands perfectly. “He’s one of those wealthy kids.”

“The likes of him will never understand us. It’s best if we make him quiet permanently,” said one of their companions. It was like a trigger of some sort. The murmurings in the entire room intensified.

Marcus felt frustrated that every time there was something to decide on, they had to argue before coming up with a solution. Even though he had been made the leader of the rebels, there were many factions in the group, and each had a different leader in mind.

“He brought us our wounded brother, and that is how we reward him?” said Marcus. “I’ll take him to my home first.”

He grabbed the boy and discretely dragged him over to his house, or so he liked to call it as that, but it was far from being an actual house. It was only erected using scrap wooden plyboard that he got from his job as a construction worker. There was no access to water and electricity, and they even had to throw their natural waste in a nearby river.

When he got to the makeshift door made with parts of steel roof and wooden lumber, two young girls came to greet him. However, they were immediately alarmed when they saw the boy at his back.

“Don’t worry about him. Bhea, Mara, go prepare something to eat for him.”

Understanding their what their father meant, her eldest daughter, Mara, tugged her younger sibling. With a plate in her hand, she scooped some leftover rice into their charcoaled stove, put a little water on it, and sprinkled soy sauce over it. The result was akin to a porridge, yet the rice was hard, and the usual aroma and flavors were nowhere to be found. Instead, it was just salty, like a literal soy sauce.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Rice was the staple food for the Filipinos. It was typically partnered with dishes that provided protein and other nutrients. But not for them, nor the one-fourth of the population that was significantly below the poverty line.

Seeing that his daughters had busied themselves, Marcus said to the boy, “shout and you’ll never shout again forever.” When the boy nodded as if to show his submission, he removed the duct tape covering in his mouth. “So, what’s your name, boy?”

“L-leon.”

Marcus sat near Leon and looked straight into his eyes. He brought his face near him, causing the boy to stamper a bit. “Well, Leon, give me one reason I should not kill you.”

“Please… please, I’ll not say anything if you let me go.”

He noticed Leon’s eyes focused on him, becoming waterier each minute. Marcus was certain that this boy right here was innocent — he did not even look at them with anger or pity. Yet the boy saw their faces and knew of their hideout. How can he allow the possibility of endangering the whole rebels just for a single kid? He sighed and said, “You brought us our friend.

But you shouldn’t be in a place like this. The likes of you have no place here.” The boy in front of him was a stark contrast to his life, he thought.

Marcus always envied those who can go to school, especially college, that few Filipinos can afford to take. He was in grade 6 when his father stopped supporting his education. He wanted him to be a help on their farm, but Marcus did not want that. So, he escaped and went to Manila, expecting that there were many job opportunities here that can support him. For all his life, he had to work and work, desperately hoping that he will see some light, some improvement in his life. But no such thing came.

Yet there was Leon, right there whose hands were so soft that he probably never had to work. His body was healthy, with a good stature of fat and muscles. There were also his clothes that were all fine quality and branded items — something that seemed like a dream for those living in the slums.

When her daughters came back, they set the rice with soy sauce on the table. He knew they were flustered by the sudden visitor. But he noticed his youngest daughter had been stealing glances at the boy ever since they got there. Curious about what might be the problem, Marcus asked him.

“Does he bother you, Bhea?”

“No! It’s just that it’s the mister from before.”

“What?”

Long story short, Leon helped his daughter when she was lost in the riot earlier. He searched and walked her back in their house, explaining why a boy with that disposition will be in the slums, where many considered dangerous and disgusting.

A pang of shame bit Marcus as he heard her explain. He was the reason his daughter was exposed to danger. While he was up there trying to kill someone, his youngest was being run on by a mob. Thanks to the boy he held captive that she returned safely.

“You shouldn’t be there in the first place!”

“I’m only following you, father,” retorted Bhea.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he said. Marcus looked at Leon and motioned him to start. “Go on. Eat.”

Leon, heeding his captor’s command, reached for the spoon. It was very far from what he was used to eating. In fact, he’d argue that there were not enough nutrients in it to be considered a meal. The taste was dismal, just literal soy sauce. But he understood it was all the family can offer. He was well aware of it. He saw it in news, on the internet before they got transported to another world, but to be the one to experience it is something else.

Marcus ended up thanking Leon for what he did. He knew the kid was kind since he helped his wounded comrade instead of ignoring him. Then the boy also helped his daughter. But it still did not discount the possibility that he might tip them off to the police or military.

For five years now, he took arms to fight for his ideals — to fight for the oppressed Filipinos, for the poor. He shared sweat and blood with all the members of their rebel group. Endangering them because of kindness was something he did not want to do, nor did he think was right.

“Leon, you’ll sleep with us for tonight. I’ll decide what to do with you tomorrow.”

When the night deepened, he bounded the boy in a strong metal hook attached to the floor. He placed a carton bow on the ground and let him lie there to sleep. Without even an hour, Leon was asleep. He was perhaps tired of what happened to him that day, Marcus thought.

His stomach churned when he was about to lie on his spot. He went to get some rice but discovered that the cooker was empty. It was probably because they had fed their visitor. Marcus checked the container of the raw rice, grumbling as he need to cook at that hour, but it too was empty. In the end, he settled for water.

Despite being the leader of the rebels, his economic situation was no better than any of them. He was a construction worker, making just the minimum wage every day. However, it had been two weeks since his last job. The supplies of construction materials were hampered by the lack of gas. He certainly had no savings for emergencies like this time. That was why he and his daughters had been forced to make do with just soy sauce. They even had to beg for the rice. It was not the life that the president promised them when he ran for the position.

President Marsus’ sweet promises still lingered in his memory. They gave him hope that his life would be better in his term. Yet when Marcus saw himself now, he cannot help but shed a tear. At first, he and his fellow friends tried to join rallies to express their struggles, hoping to the government officials would hear them. But it was all for naught, no help ever came; their situation just got worse and worse. That was when they thought that an armed rebellion was necessary to change the Philippines for the better. However, their first attempt at eliminating the source of the problem ended up in failure. Not only that, but now they were in a risk of being found by the army because a kid saw them.

When he looked at the sleeping Leon, he saw the boy was so vulnerable now. Marcus went to get a knife and pointed it at the boy’s chest. Perhaps from the pain coming from the sharpened point of the blade, Leon tried to scream, but Marcus covered his mouth with a twisted cloth. If he continued, he would essentially make sure that his comrades were safe.

Leon’s irises got bigger and stared at him. Tears ran down the boy’s face. Marcus felt that his heart was about to burst when he stared at the fearful face in front of him. How the kid in front of him helped his daughter also flashed in his mind. That was when he decided.

He slowly withdrew the knife and cut the rope restraining Leon. He dragged him outside his house and said, “Go now. I’m setting you free. Never come back here.”

“Thank you.” Leon wiped his tears and looked at him.

“You’re really thanking the one who was about to stab you one minute ago?”

“But you did not, and you even fed me.” He bowed and started walking away.

“Hey!” said Marcus. Leon’s heard turned his way. “If you report us to the police, I’ll come back for you and your family.”

He saw him nodded nervously, perhaps frightened at the sound of his voice. Marcus watched as the boy’s shadow got smaller and smaller. It was 4 am; the sun did not yet rise, but the faint light coming from the city lights from afar basked him. He sighed, wondering if he made the right decision. Marcus had to make some preparations if the boy betrayed them; he thought.