He entered the alley and kept walking at his usual pace. Diji was saying something but he wasn't paying attention. He looked at the ground, seeing creatures resembling cockroaches and rats; others were so different that he had no Earthly reference to compare them to.

Those were animals he didn’t recognize, and they caught his attention. However, after a moment, he felt something sharp press against his back. As he had already been circulating his vital energy throughout his body from the moment he entered the alley, he simply moved his arm backward as swiftly as a snake's strike, grabbing his attacker’s arm before he could cut his clothes.

He yanked the boy behind him with force, tossing him like a doll toward Diji.

Tristan looked back and saw a third boy turn and try to run away, but with just three swift steps, he closed the distance, appearing in front of him like an apparition.

Clicking his tongue, he said, “It’s not cool to abandon your friends when they’re in trouble.” Tristan kicked the boy in the chest, sending him flying toward the others. He used essence but restrained his strength to avoid breaking his ribs.

“Hey, kid, you better not mess with us! Do you know who you're dealing with? We’re members of the Bandits Sect; you've heard what happens to those who mess with us, right?” Diji shouted his threat.

‘Bandits Sect? Could he be telling the truth? Hmm, if so, this might be my lucky day,’ he thought. It was a possible scenario. The Bandits Sect, like the Beggars Sect, was well known for using children as the base of its operations.

“Really? I think I’ve heard of you: trafficking illicit substances, murders, thefts, and demolishing the homes of common people who refuse to pay your ridiculous fees. That’s the sort of thing you guys usually do, isn’t it?”

Tristan stepped forward, grabbed Diji, and threw him to the ground. Then he stomped on his left hand, the sound of bones breaking echoing through the air.

The boy let out a scream of pain.

“You bastard, didn’t you hear who we are? Aren’t you afraid of us?” Diji said, tears in his eyes.

“I heard you just fine, and I don’t care. Do you think any martial artist would fear this pathetic sect of yours?” Tristan’s lips curved into a sneer. “Actually, that only made me angry. I was going to offer you a great deal, but now that I know you’re part of a criminal organization, maybe I should break a few of your bones first.”

Tristan pressed his foot down on Diji’s right arm. “I don’t usually do good deeds, but stopping you from making some parents cry in the future might not be a bad idea.” The Bandits Sect was infamous for kidnapping young people and forcing them into terrible tasks.

“Wait, wait, I lied! We’re not from the Bandits Sect, I swear. I just wanted to scare you.” Tristan pressed down harder on his arm.

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“Please, I beg you, we’re low-ranking members of the Beggars Sect. Have mercy on us; we’ll do whatever you want,” Diji said, panicking.

The other two boys knelt and pressed their foreheads to the ground.

“Please, forgive us! We’re just kids,” one of them pleaded.

A small smile appeared on his face. “I’m also just a kid, and you tried to stab me in the back a minute ago.”

“But we had no choice. This is the only way we can survive here!” the third boy said.

“Please! Spare my arm; I won’t survive without it!” Diji pleaded once more.

After pressing them further, Tristan was satisfied to discover that the boys were members of the Beggars Sect. He wasn’t afraid of the Bandits Sect, although it was one of the most infamous criminal organizations on the continent. Only its headquarters had considerable power; its branches generally didn’t have enough strength to rival local sects.

The Beggars Sect also had a terrible reputation, though it was nowhere near as bad as the Bandits Sect. They were weaker, so the risk of this causing trouble for Tristan in the future wasn’t too high.

“Whatever, at least the Beggars Sect isn’t as disgusting as the Bandits Sect. Like I said earlier, I have a mission for you. You’ll make a lot more money from this than robbing those poor people on the streets.”

Tristan took ten copper coins and tossed them on the ground.

The children’s eyes sparkled at the sight.

“I can give you more of these if you help me.”

“What do you need us to do?” Diji asked.

“Gather the other youths living on the streets for me. Look for those who seem healthier. Tell them I’ll reward everyone.”

The boys exchanged glances and said, “Got it, boss!”

‘No questions? No curiosity or attempts to refuse?’ He looked into the boys’ eyes and saw no sign of hesitation. ‘They must be used to strange requests because of the life they live,’ he thought, feeling something close to pity.

“All right, don’t make me wait too long,” he said to the boys before they ran out of the alley.

‘Well, now I just have to wait.’

He sat in the alley, wondering if he’d done enough to secure their obedience. About ten minutes later, he heard footsteps approaching. He saw the three boys he’d spoken with earlier, but who accompanied them wasn’t what he had asked for.

Tristan rolled his eyes, but he wasn’t too disappointed because he’d already expected something like this to happen.

An adult man dressed in old, dirty clothes entered the alley. He had a thick black beard, and his yellow teeth were visible in his wide smile. He walked with firm, confident steps.

His eyes lit up as he saw Tristan, as if in front of a pot of gold—at least for a few seconds. After that, all his right eye saw was darkness.

Without him realizing it, an object had struck his face, deeply piercing his eye. It all happened so fast that the pain only came after his surprise faded and he understood what had happened.

Crimson blood gushed from his right eye, and he let out a screaming of pain.

Tristan found some amusement in seeing the panic-stricken expressions on the three boys' faces.

The boys were wide-eyed, staring at their senior’s face. A small piece of bronze-colored metal, oddly shaped like a dart, was embedded in his eye.

“My eye, my eye, what did you do to my eye?” The old beggar raised his hand to his face; instead of his eye, his fingers felt a smooth, pointed, cold surface.

He tried to pull it out, but his fingers were too thick for the task.

The boys were trembling, cold sweat dripping down their faces. “A coin. He threw a coin into his eye!” one of the boys said.

“How is that possible?” Diji said in shock.

Tristan turned to the boys and asked with his usual expressionless face while his right fingers toyed with another bronze coin, “Hey, about that mission I gave you—I’m in a hurry, you know?”

The three boys paled at his words and said in unison, “No, don’t worry, we’re on it, boss!” They turned and ran off in fright.

Watching the backs of the young bandits as they left the alley, Tristan turned to the old beggar writhing in pain on the ground. “Return my coin when you’re done whining.”