Throughout the five hours trapped in the cell, I did my best to listen in on the interrogation that was happening a few rooms over, where the guards were interrogating Bruno. Usually, I’d stand no chance of hearing anything, but perception at D-rank was thankfully good enough to at least catch a few snippets from the conversation.

I only caught the tail end of the talk, where I heard the guard detail the punishment the man was going to receive.

Bruno would be kept imprisoned until nighttime, no more than a few hours longer than myself, and then, he’d be released. They were sending him home to sleep, and when he woke up the following day, he was to go to the town center where he would receive his full punishment—a public lashing.

I was quite confused for a while. Was that really it? But then it hit me—they didn’t realize that Bruno was evil-aligned.

From their perspective, his offense wasn’t that serious. He beat my ass pretty badly, sure, but it was only after I annoyed the shit out of him, and in the end, nobody was seriously hurt, and no real damage was done.

As for why they let him go home unsupervised, well, it was because the punishment wasn’t really worth running from. Leaving his home behind and becoming a fugitive just to avoid a lashing was something only a massive coward and an idiot would do.

It was disconcerting to see that town guards in this place were the police, judges, jury, and executioners. It was up to their whim who got punished and how. Just when I started to think that this world was more advanced than I had initially presumed, I suddenly found myself drastically lowering my estimation. That shit seemed pretty barbaric to me.

The time ticked by, and eventually, the lock twisted, and the doors that kept me imprisoned swung open.

A guard walked in. It was neither of the two I had talked to before. “You may leave,” he told me. His glare was hostile, and as I headed out, he swung his arm and slapped the back of my head.

“What the—” I shouted.

“Get the hell out!” the guard yelled, kicking me in the ass as he pushed me forward. “Damn travelers. If you cause any more trouble on my watch, I swear to the gods, I’ll hind you so bad you won’t walk for a week! Have I made myself clear!?”

Fury. Fury, unlike anything else I had ever felt in my life. A visceral, gut-tearing disgust bubbled in my stomach as I felt the urge to claw the man’s head off. A burning desire to plunge my fingers into his chest and tear his heart out raged until it almost wholly overpowered my patience. “Yes, sir,” I responded calmly as I turned around and walked outside.

That man wasn’t [Evil]. He was only an asshole. And as such, I was powerless to do anything. Or so I thought. But as I examined the blessing, to my surprise, I discovered that beating his ass wouldn’t have been a sin.

Granted, it would have landed me into heaps of trouble, but it was relieving that standing up for myself wasn’t out of my reach. The same way that man could be a prick without being aligned with evil, I could also be a prick as long as my actions didn’t spread severe harm to those undeserving.

Still, I held myself back. Partly to not get arrested and imprisoned, but mostly because I knew damn well that I wouldn’t have stopped at just teaching him a lesson.

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My mood was thoroughly soured. I almost growled in anger as I walked outside, feeling restrained like an animal in a coop. I was tied to this town. There was evil to stop, and fleeing on the spot would count as abandoning the people who would get hurt.

“This sucks…” I muttered.

This couldn’t continue. I needed more power. A different kind of power. Something that could help me dispatch evil targets without compromising myself. Stealth perhaps. Maybe a minion that could do my bidding. As I walked on, trying to puzzle out an answer to my situation, I heard a voice calling for me from behind.

“Hey, kid!” a man shouted, and I immediately recognized the brunette guard's voice, the man who had welcomed me to this town and then interrogated me. “Did you cool your head a bit?” he asked me.

“Sure did,” I spat, turning back around as I prepared to walk away and leave.

“I’d like to talk to you for a minute,” the man said.

I faced him again. “What do you want from me?” I asked, frustrated to the point where I felt within touching distance of blowing a gasket and going berserk, with the only thing keeping me grounded being the intense feeling of disgust reminding me that I’d die if I did that.

“I don’t want anything from you,” the man said, smiling cheekily. “But my conscience won’t let me leave you alone like this.”

I scoffed internally. So the man was worried that I was too naive for my own safety? But, as annoying as he was, his words sobered me up, extinguishing the flames burning within. My instincts kicked in. This man was a guard. Guards wielded quite a bit of power in this place, as far as I could tell. This was someone I could deceive. This was someone I could use.

I turned around, scowling. “You don’t know me,” I asserted like an angsty teenager. “What’s in it for you?”

“I can tell you had a good upbringing,” the man said. “Fine clothing, clear skin. Your parents were merchants, or maybe they owned a shop. Am I right?”

The man was utterly wrong, but I reacted as if he was right on the money. “So what?” I shot back. “That much is obvious, isn’t it? But that’s not who I am anymore. If you think I inherited some money and want to make connections, forget about it,” I said, feigning a spark of sadness in my eyes as they twitched closed for aa fraction of a second. “I’m a nobody now.”

The man looked pained at my words. “Earlier this day, I told you about the boy who went missing. Remember?”

I nodded.

“You remind me a lot of him,” the man said. “He’s my neighbor's kid, a few years your junior. He’s brave. He doesn’t stand by when he sees others being bullied. That’s what spurred you on today, isn’t it?”

I wanted to laugh in his face. If he knew how far off he was, he’d die from a heart attack. Yet, I angrily looked aside, scoffing as if too proud to admit the man was right.

He smiled. “Come with me. I have a spare room in my home.”

I scoffed. “I don’t need your charity,” I said. “I’ll pay for a few nights at the inn.” Naturally, I was broke, but I kept up a facade.

“Nonsense,” the man said. “Seeing your actions today, I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that you got into a brawl and got yourself beaten again.”

I winced. That wasn’t even acting; that was a genuine reaction. If anyone evil appeared, that’s probably exactly what would happen.

“Come on,” the man said. “I told my daughter to make extra food tonight. You’re going to love her cooking.”

Finally, after deciding that I had stalled long enough, I reluctantly nodded.

“My name is Martin,” the man said, offering me a handshake.

Wait, what? I reeled. I just realized none of the guards even asked for my name. Maybe my worry about documentation was more unfounded than I thought. I accepted the handshake and looked at the man. “My name is James,” I returned the introduction.

He was quite a bit taller than me.

I had no idea how old people thought I was, but they were definitely underestimating it. Technically, I looked the same as I had when I was 20. But I was relatively short, and coupled with my clear, pale skin and skinny body, it likely made me look way younger than the average 20-year-old from around here.

In any case, that suited me just fine. For now, at least.