Noah reasoned – I don't seem to have a choice; if what he said was true, resisting would just be a worse death.

He gave over his body to the strange force that fought for control of his body. When he did, he moved towards the door, and every step he made caused his heart to pound louder one after the other.

Once he stood in front of the entrance, he spotted Herod placing his elbow on the table and resting his head against his palm, one leg on top of the other. Gazing at him, was Herod’s piercing bottle-green eyes which gleamed with curiosity.

Herod giggled, and rolled his eyes back, mockingly saying, "It really is hard to fathom someone who was once so dreaded by every resident in Babylon, warn and pity a child. It’s become somewhat amusing and fascinating in fact.”

“The man you speak of was all in the past, that person has already long retired,” Judas replied, shaking his silver cocktail shaker.

“Hahaha! I don’t think so…” Herod said, quickly changing countenance and tone from intrigued and taunting to serious. “Since if the two of us ever fought, don't you think you'd kill me?"

“Why don’t we stop talking about the past shall we?” Crushing the cocktail shaker, Judas continued with a cold tone emanating from his bloodthirsty filled smile, “or do you really want to fight, Herod?”

Herod was taken aback, maybe because he had not expected Judas to agree to the battle, or perhaps because Judas was irritated. “Let’s just speak about this later,” Herod said, straightening up his posture and pointing a finger at Noah. “Plus, there’s still that rat by the door.”

As Noah listened to their argument, he felt a sense of inferiority, not because of their status or wealth, but because of their painstakingly obvious difference in strength.

The furious mood Judas was in began to dissolve as he grabbed the crushed shaker and carefully set it on the table. “You’re correct, we shouldn’t talk this way in front of a child”

“So… why are you here, rat?” Herod asked.

Noah was immediately reminded of his mother as he gradually learned of Herod’s personality. "I've always longed to witness a noble who rose through the ranks by their own power," he remarked, bending his head, in the same way he did with his mother.

“Oh? Thank you for the compliment, but you know, you don't have to pretend as if you care. But consider me impressed; there aren't many brats who can think on their feet like you.” Herod continued, lifting his other hand in Noah’s direction and curling his finger. “So… I'm curious what you'd do if I claimed you for myself?"

Noah remained in stunned silence, unable to move an inch, and was taken aback as he'd never been in this situation before. He was briefly considering his response when he came across the question – What does he mean by 'claim'? But, before he could conclude what it meant, he was interrupted by a blur.

Judas poured alcohol into another glass and speedily moved it closer to Herod, to which Noah and Herod could only see a blur. The next thing Herod saw was a glass of whiskey beside him and Judas’s whispering voice that warned him, “I would advise you to not do this, as a testament to our old friendship.”

Herod moved his hand towards Judas, but he was able to easily evade his attempted grab. However, Herod wasn’t aiming for him, he grabbed the glass, and questioned Judas in a swaggering tone, “Why? Why don’t you? If you really were my old friend, you would support my actions, shouldn’t you?”

Noah, who was oblivious to Judas’s whisper, wondered – What’s he talking about? Support him in what?

“Fine, just do what you want Herod, but let me tell you this, the decision you made today will lead you to your greatest regret.”

Herod turned his head, and the unmatching colors and elements of red and green collided. “Then, do you want to make a bet? For old times’ sake… of course. Let’s see, if in three years’ time the rat’s still able to stay sane, I win, and you’ll have to return to your beloved country.”

Stolen novel; please report.

When the words ‘beloved country’ traveled through his ears, Judas grew irritated and made an on-the-spot decision, asking, “It wouldn’t be fair if only I had a punishment, what if you lose?”

A swift confident response was given without even a second's consideration. “I’ll hand myself over to the famous Persian colosseums. How’s that? is it a deal?”

“Alright then, I guess it’s a deal. But I'm not sure you'd still be alive by the time you have to fulfill your end of the deal.”

They both shifted their gaze towards Noah at the same time, their expressions were comparable to that of someone who had bet their life away and was watching a dice decide their fate.

“Why are you guys deciding by yourselves? What if this isn't something I want!?” was what Noah tried to say, but couldn’t since fear seized his throat.

Herod mocked Judas while looking at the pathetic state Noah was in. “Pfft! You really trust this brat, risking returning back to the place you despise the most!?”

Ignoring him, Judas raised his hand and snapped his finger, demanding, “Tell me if you have any guardians taking care of you.”

"Aargh!" Noah grimaced in pain as he collapsed to the ground, and begged, "W-why are you torturing me like this?"

Without even a slight bit of remorse, he coldly said, “Just answer the question.”

Noah, unable to bear the suffering any longer, reluctantly answered, “Y-yes… I have a mother…” And, almost instantaneously, as soon as he answered, the anguish he felt vanished.

“That’s good to hear,” Judas said. “This whole thing will be a lot simpler than expected.”

Herod took a deep breath before loudly shouting, “Come!”

Four men quickly entered, guns in their hands and blades emerging from their sheaths, ready to attack, with one of them exclaiming, “Sir! Yes sir!”

Two of the four guys were the individuals Noah passed, and they were all confused when they glanced around just to find a little boy on the ground.

"It appears that you discovered your mistake. To be honest, I was disappointed since the guards I assigned couldn't even watch a tiny alley… but more than anything, how could you let that weak child get in? Who would like to explain?”

They all stood silent, looking amongst each other as though they were having a conversation about how the little boy got in. Finally, John, the team's leader, spoke up with both hands behind his back. "S-sir, we have no idea how he got in-"

A glass cup was violently hurled at John before he could finish. "Are you implying that my guards are incapable of guarding even a tiny alley!?” After, he stood up and walked closer to the guards, fist up. But right as he was ready to hit one of them, Judas intervened.

“Don’t we have something more important to settle, Herod? Doing meaningless bloodshed is just stupid,” he reasoned as he backed away from the counter, took a broom and dustpan, and walked over to the shards to begin sweeping.

“Hmph!” Herod grumbled, returning back to his seat. “Just find where this brat’s mom is.”

Judas stopped cleaning for a second and asked Noah, “So, could you tell me where your mom is?”

If I don’t answer, will I go back to the same state as I was before...? But if I do tell him, what will they do to her? More importantly, what will happen to me? Noah contemplated before answering, “She’s in the slums, and has purple hair.”

"Go!” With just a word from Herod the guards already left to find Dorothy.

As the sun slowly rose higher in the sky, its orange rays swallowed the darkness that had blanketed the country. The sky gradually turned a beautiful azure blue, and the clouds parted to allow the sun to rise and shine through.

After cleaning, Judas stood up and marveled at the view outside the door. The sunrise could be seen between two buildings beyond the tavern's door, and you could see the sky reflecting through his crimson eyes. He mumbled to himself, "The view here in Mort dun is one I'll never get accustomed to. But what a pity that there’s this amazing view, for such a dreadful day.”