Aizong punched. Aizong punched his master as hard as he could in the chest.

“Ouch.” He screeched, as he was swatted on the table by his drunk master. His master’s eyes were red, he had been only like this once. Blood was dripping from his fist, yet Zachary showed no sign of pain.

Aizong stood up and punched as hard he could on his master’s chest, but his punch was stopped by the shielding chain-mail armor. This time his master got his head closer, and said in an almost uncanny tone, “Kill me.”

Aizong’s eyes widened, as he was kicked in the gut. He coughed, he felt terrible pain, it wasn’t easy. It wasn’t easy to see his Master, his father, his role model, in such a pitiful state, “I won’t abandon you.” He muttered.

As he jumped back thinking of a way to let his master out of his drunken misery. Out of everything he could think of none would work. He was somewhat useless to begin with, yet his master trusted him. When everyone on the island had left him to rot in the garbage heap, that man, adopted that him.

Aizong sighed, he wasn’t strong enough to do what he was about to, but was even less intelligent to think of something other than this.

He drew a circle with his right foot while keeping the left in the center.

Aizong then matched his breath with his steps, “Perfect Harmony- Soul Seeker” He said.

Aizong lightly touched Zachary’s heart, forming a connection much deeper than the physical realm, his body was left stagnant but his soul entered Zachary’s body.

The pain, the misery, the anger, everything that Zachary felt was Aizong’s burden. The world had abandoned Zachary, why shouldn’t I hate them, why shouldn’t they feel the pain that I do, Aizong thought, no, those weren’t Aizong’s thoughts, those were Zachary’s.

It got harder and harder to control Zachary’s body, it was being drowned in rage.

Aizong would too drown if he didn’t fight, but how could he?

Deep inside, wasn’t Zachary right? But not right now, it isn’t the bartender’s fault or the bouncer’s, it is… well it was a difficult question for Aizong to answer, he couldn’t waste his energy on a question that could be answered later.

He couldn’t stop Zachary’s body, so he dived deeper into Zachary’s soul.

It was easy to get lost in the infiniteness of a soul. But Aizong had lived with Zachary for entirety of his life, he shouldn’t get lost.

He adjusted his flight to the direction of the winds, the winds usually concentrated themselves on the running central emotion. Aizong was hit with waves of pure contempt and hatred, crows ripped and bit his soul and the world tried to repel him.

But Aizong continued to descend, “Master! Master!” he shouted, a bolt of red lightning struck him, Aizong lost control of his flight, while he was being repelled by an invisible force, and the wind continued to push him towards the center.

Aizong grimaced in pain as his soul was being ripped, ‘No, I must push harder.’ He thought.

Sadly his strength had abandoned him, and cracks began to form in his soul.

Thinking became a pain, living was a thing to resent, every memory Aizong had, everything Aizong wanted or needed became diluted.

“No. No. NO! Zachary stop!” Aizong screamed, but his voice wasn’t his, were these words his own?

The pain was the last thing he felt. “Father…” That was the last thing he said.

Aizong felt a chill, he fell as light entered his eyes. His body felt heavier. There was something sharp tearing his palms, trying to enter inside him.

Aizong was in Zachary’s body.

“Take those bullets back, I am Aizong.” He pleaded as he opened his hands, they were completely red, shaking badly, yet there was nothing he could feel there.

Zachary’s body was panting, he didn’t know what to do.

Aizong sighed, closing his eyes.

Aizong was back in his body, a body much less wounded and much easier to control (Well, his body wasn’t actively trying to destroy his soul.)

Zachary’s body was still on the floor, motionless, and if the chances weren’t in favor, it might be lifeless too, and it all would be Aizong’s fault.

At this moment Aizong for the first time had to come to terms with his master’s mortality. He had long ago accepted that his role model was a human, and for many Zachary was defined by his flaws, but, believing that his master, his father will die one day didn’t feel like a distant truth, but rather a fabrication, a lie created only to despair Aizong.

Zachary had existed before Aizong and will continue to do so after him.

“Well done sonny, you saved our lives and your master’s ass.” The bartender said while applauding him.

Zachary had told him that being appreciated made you weak, if appreciated then we won’t be pushing our limits, which he found quite sound and logical, of course, appreciation will send me into my comfort zone, Aizong thought.

The bouncer gave Aizong a bear hug, “Thank you man. Thank you so much. Because of you, I will be able to see my daughter tonight.” The bouncer was crying, something which made him weak in the eyes of his master, but in this one instance Aizong disagreed, the bouncer could have run away with everyone yet he tried to protect his boss and the prince.

This man was strong, and no amount of tears would take his unwavering will and strength away.

“Your master isn’t dead, just in need of rest and medicine.” The bartender said.

“How did you?” Aizong asked bewildered, “I attend to at least a hundred people a day.” He replied with a smirk on his face as if he had forgotten that he was almost dead a few minutes ago.

“Take your old man home, I don’t think the Dragon Lady will be pleased when she arrives.”

Aizong nodded, Zachary certainly wouldn’t like to be humiliated by her twice in a day.

Fortunately, the Dragon Lady wouldn’t have bothered Zachary at all for she was attending the very intruder he had caught.

The intruder screamed and shook with pain, as unspeakable acts were done to his body.

Astoundingly the intruder got more and more aggressive as the intensity of the pain increased.

He said many things, but the truth was none of them. He mumbled about a dead wife ordering him to kill the king, but there was no recent death on the island.

Jorgon came and whispered something in her ear, she nodded.

The intruder got a breather, a breather which terrified him, for after she stopped she would do worse things with him.

The lady left the intruder in his dark cell, but not alone. He will be an instrument for the amusement of other prisoners in the nighttime.

She shuddered for his sake, for at least she was afflicting pain to know something, well same can’t be said for them.

She wore her coat, as Jorgon offered her some coffee, “Madam do you want to know what happened at the Laryian?”

“Do you think I am in a mood to know what the fuck is happening in every nook and cranny of the Island?”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“Well, it is important Azrael.”

“You know once a dog had entered Old Lezeze’s garden and they called me immediately for it was important”

Jorgon laughed, “Damn, the lady is feeling the heat huh. I feel sorry for you.”

“You don’t need to feel sorry for me, you need to work for me. I want those goddamn records before I even enter this shithole, okay?”

“Okay, ma’am. I will get those records before you even wake up, which will be around 12.30, right.”

Azrael chuckled, “Trying to be funny eh, you know what’s funny? You had a date night with Merida, which you decided to spend with Midas.”

Jorgon lost all color of his face, “Shit. Shit. Shit. Couldn’t you have told me earlier Azrael?”

“I could have if I wasn’t overworked and in need of some extra hands.”

“Fuck you,” Jorgon shouted at her as he sprinted outside.

Azrael walked outside through officer’s entrance only gate which gave the Detention Center a much more presentable front, hell they made the extra effort of changing the name of this part of the building by calling it- Police Station, so they didn’t ward off anyone needy for help just by the looks alone. That part was done by the officers.

Every officer except Jorgon, people greeted and gave warm smiles to poor Jorgon as he sulkily made his way towards The Laryian Tavern, “You are quite early Jorgon.” The Bartender remarked.

“Well I don’t like crowds, and I don’t think anyone likes to drink in the very morning.”

“No, I meant the ruckus was just mere moments ago. How did you arrive on the scene so fast?”

Jorgon sighed, “Look, I am sorry, but we were busy, Azrael had to deal with this Intruder and stuff, you get the idea, right?”

“Had a bad night chap?”

“No, what made you think so.”

“You aren’t your bubbly self, are ya?”

“So tell me what happened exactly,” Jorgon asked taking out his pen and notepad.

“Do want it in short or long?”

“In short, the shortest version possible.”

“Okay, so some shit happened yesterday, but I got it hopefully under control.” The bartender said as he tried to stop himself from laughing.

Jorgon raised his eyebrows, “Really? Please give me a short version which includes all the necessary details.”

“Fine. Fine. Our Prince came to drink yesterday, well you know everyone’s usual reaction and thoughts to him. Make it tenfold and that’s what that bastard Zachary did.

Alex lost his patience, Zachary lost his restraints and in rage nearly killed us, if it weren’t for his student, that boy truly did a miracle. The boy took Zachary home. While I healed up Alex and sent him home.”

“Well, that’s it?” Jorgon asked.

“You know people and how they exaggerate.”

Jorgon nodded, “Thanks man, I just need one last help from you- do you know this guy- Aoyama Aoki?”

“That name doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Don’t you know everyone living on the island?”

“I know everyone, but I don’t know Aoyama. Is he an outsider?”

“Well… I don’t know. If he is an outsider then Beach Patrol fail to recognize him, and even if he slipped past the Patrol, why and how would he enter the Noble Estates?”

“Wait, is he that boy? The one which Zachary had caught.”

“Yep. Exactly that boy.”

“Boy seems quite fascinating to me.”

“Everyone in the detention center seems fascinating until they are out of it.”

“Fine. Fine. Why don’t you use your technique to find out about the boy?”

“I will use that, but people sometimes know more than paper.”

“Very true Jorgon. Very true.”

Jorgon left the tavern with no new lead, though he had had a nice little talk with the Bartender, you can go to him in the middle of the night, and he will strike up some fun conversation with you.

Jorgon stopped in front of a fountain, which approximately marked the middle of Noble Estate, he relaxed his body, closed his eyes, and focused on the world around him, the smell of fresh bread, the sound of gossip among the ladies, and the cold breeze.

Then he opened his eyes, and there was nothing around him, “Perfect Harmony- Invenire- Aoyama Aoki.”

The area around him was still shrouded in darkness, excluding a well-lit Cabinet four steps away from him.

Jorgon was disappointed, he had hoped that Aoyama was an outsider, but his hypothesis was wrong. And this made the case much worse. If he truly was born here, then why didn’t anyone recognize him?

Each step was heavier than the last, there were three compartments, the first one had a sinister aura around it, this must be Vongotski’s he thought, as he opened it to find a piece of paper and beneath it a diary which was the source of sinister aura.

He took a look at the paper, it was Aoyama’s birth record.

If Jorgon had let curiosity take over him then he would have read the late geezer’s diary, but he valued his life more than some weird diary, who knows what enchantment the diary had, in the end, that old man was known for having spirit technique connected with the hell.

He moved on to the second compartment, it only had Aoyama’s admission record to the Dojo, so this was Harz’s compartment. Jorgon pocketed the record and moved to the final compartment.

The compartment was empty, interesting. Jorgon carefully inspected the compartment but found nothing. Was his Spirit Technique malfunctioning? Jorgon thought.

But still, he wondered, whose compartment could it be? He couldn’t figure out anything, he looked at his watch, he was getting late.

He will later find out if his technique was malfunctioning or if there was something more to it.

He turned off his Spirit Technique and ventured towards the Police Station so he could finish off his day with Ms. Grumpy.

Ms. Grumpy was quite busy she had scars of sleep on her, “I believe you didn’t have a good sleep?”

She slowly looked towards Jorgon, “Well I hope you had better sleep on the couch or the floor.”

“Merida is much more understanding Azrael, and here are the papers you asked for,” Jorgon said as he turned toward the gate.

“I am sorry for last night Jorgon, if I had remembered I would’ve reminded you. And thank you for the work.”

Jorgon nodded as he left the compound, curiosity ran rampant, as a thought was eating him away.

A thought which seemed quite insignificant, but was the most important one running in the entire island.