* * *
As his vision slowly returned, the first thing he heard was a dull thud. It sounded like the crushing of something, or the hard slap of leather. But when his vision fully returned, what Cadel saw was neither.
âWhat the hellâ¦â¦ are they doing?â
Standing in front of him were two burly adult men and a young boy. One of them pushed the little boy against the wall and kicked him senseless, while the other watched his merciless companion from a short distance away.
It wasnât long before Cadel realized the identity of the blows heâd heard. Quickly shifting his vision to the front of the wall, he saw the boy cowering like a caterpillar. The boy had endured every blow that had been thrown at him without a single groan.
The boy had dark navy blue hair and a dwarf frame. Every inch of his exposed flesh was covered in raw pigment, making it difficult to infer his original skin color.
Cadel instinctively recognized the boyâs identity. This poor boy, with misery written all over him, was the young Yozen Vardikta.
âThese crazy bastardsâ¦â¦! What are they doing to a kid with nowhere else to run!â
A feverish, unpleasant sensation rushed through his body. He felt like he had to rip off the limbs of the man who was kicking Yozen to make him stop.
After kicking Yozen a few more times, the man finally let out a ragged breath and shook his head. A vague sense of satisfaction flickered over the manâs face.
He spat in Yozenâs convulsing face, then dug into his pockets and pulled out something. It was a small, ugly loaf of bread, no bigger than his fist, and the man who threw it at Yozen grinned.
âIf you donât want to be a real prick, get to work, kid. We donât take in the worthless.â
Yozen didnât answer. With trembling hands, he picked up the bread, narrowly missing the phlegm. The man watching him clicked his tongue in annoyance and turned away.
He patted the shoulder of his companion behind him as he passed. The man had been watching the assault. Instead of following his companion back, the man with the auburn hair and the unpleasant smile stepped in front of Yozen. Bending down, he stroked Yozenâs head, which hung limp like a corpse.
âItâs not because Ramp hates you, heâs just an inarticulate fellow. Heâs upset that the hunt didnât work out. Heâll be better tomorrow.â
ââ¦â¦â
âYozen, if youâll just understand, we can be normal again. Weâll share a nice meal, and Iâll get you some warm clothes, soâ¦â¦ will you forgive him?â
The voice was creepily sweet. Cadel, who had been keeping a wary eye on the man beside Yozen, felt a stomach-churning rage as he listened to the brainwashing disguised as comfort.
âWhere the hell are you getting this bullsh*t from?â
A grown man had beaten a child to death and abused him, and the man who had watched the whole thing, instead of tending to his wounds or sheltering him, was trying to justify the violence with heinous words.
His head throbbed with rage, but Yozenâs response helped him calm down.
ââ¦â¦.Yes. I forgive him.â
The blood boiled in his throat, a pitiful whimper that ended in a lump. The man patted Yozenâs head a couple of times, as if satisfied with the answer, then pushed away and stood up. Naturally, he didnât bother to help Yozen to his feet or hug him.
âWeâll be on the road again the day after tomorrow. Until then, letâs reflect on our last hunt and make it a success.â
The man who muttered the unintelligible words turned and left the alley without hesitation.
âHaâ¦â¦.â
From the beginning of the flashback, Cadel had witnessed a ridiculous scene. Cadel looked back at young Yozen, feeling dazed.
Though swollen and bruised, the Yozen of the past had two intact eyes. Black eyes. A young boyâs eyes should have sparkled with curiosity and mischief, but Yozenâs eyes were as blank as a deep abyss.
Yozenâs eyes were like a deep abyss, and he scrambled to his feet, then collapsed against the wall, catching his breath. Even his breathing sounded ragged.
Panting like a man about to die from the intermittent regurgitation of blood, Yozen shoved the loaf of bread into his mouth as if it were a treasure. Despite choking on it, he pounded his bruised chest to fill his stomach.
This little boy was desperately struggling to survive, somehow, and that desperate survival instinct made Cadel feel a terrible sense of helplessness and sadness. He had a vague idea that Yozenâs past must have been terrible. But this was more than he could have imagined.
Where the hell was this place, why was Yozen hanging out with these human scums, and what were they doing together? Curiosity and fear flooded his mind at once.
âHow did he endure such a miserable life?â
Yozenâs bedroom was a stable, and he slept on a straw bed in a stall filled with horse manure and filth. His wounds were still untreated, so the stable was filled with Yozenâs moans and the horsesâ snorts.
Cadel felt sorry for him, shivering with cold and pain, and he paced around, wondering if there was anything he could do to help, but there wasnât.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om
After tossing and turning for a while, Yozen began to mumble something in his sleep. As Cadel listened closer, he could barely make out the words.
âPlease, help meâ¦â¦ It hurtsâ¦â¦.â
What a terrible rage a man could feel. It felt like someone had cut his heart out and left it there. No, it felt like his heart was being eaten right before his eyes. Cadelâs head burned like a furnace with rage, but there was nowhere to release it.
Cadel tried to stroke the painfully contorted young face, offering inaudible comfort. He looked so different from the Yozen he knew now. No toned body, no smooth skin without a single scar, no chiseled face free of swelling. As a child, Yozen was fragile, helpless, and defenselessly exposed to all violence and pain.
He wanted to deny the unbelievable reality; he couldnât understand how a child who grew up with such a past could like humans.
The next day, Cadel was still thinking about it.
âGet to work, you idiot!â
Yozen couldnât stay awake long in his uncomfortable bed. The man who had stormed into the stable at dawn shook his bruised and battered body roughly, then dumped dozens of swords in front of him.
âWipe them shiny and bloodless, and if any are missing, collect them and take them to Henry.â
Yozen stammered as he listened to the manâs words, his face still barely awake.
âSo, are, are you going to fe, feed meâ¦â¦?â
âTsk, Iâm sure youâre some kind of carnivore. Yeah, Iâll give it to you when youâre done. But if I see the slightest sign of sloppiness, Iâll starve you.â
Yozen nodded grimly and began to inspect the sword, and the man snorted and turned away.
âWhat the hell is that guy? Where the hell is this place that new trash is created every day? I want to gather it all up and burn it.â
Cadelâs head was filled with murderous urges. Yozen wiped the bloodied blade of the sword with a wound twice as swollen as it had been yesterday. All that hard work, and all heâd get was a few loaves of bread. Heâd be lucky to get water.
He tried to control his seething stomach, but it didnât work. Cadel left the stable one last time, seeing Yozen bleeding from a blade cut. He couldnât take it anymore. He had to find out who was doing this to Yozen now.
To his surprise, they were a mercenary corps. An unnamed mercenary corps, they seemed to make their living by selling the materials from their monster slayings rather than by taking on clients.
The back alley of the dilapidated inn where they stay. There sat the man named Ramp who had beaten Yozen, and the man who watched him do it.
âSelling goblin pelts isnât going to pay the bills this month, so a wyvern fang would be a nice addition to our coffers.â
âThatâs a flying creature. Tricky to catch. The closest thing we have is an ogre, and weâd have to risk our lives to get one. â¦â¦I canât think of anything better than a goblin pelt.â
âDamn itâ¦â¦.â
âDonât get your hopes up already, Ramp. Weâre going to have to compete on quantity. Weâve got some good bait, donât we?â
The man patted Ramp on the back comfortingly and smiled. Then Ramp, who was rubbing his face roughly, looked up with a sigh.
âYozen, that kidâs too much of a wuss. Weâll have to pick up another beggar, Cyron.â
âFunny you should say that. Thatâs why Yozen has survived as bait all these years: heâs too scared. The brave and ignorant die quick and easy.â
ââ¦â¦Thatâs true.â
âYep. If you play your cards right, heâll last a long time, so donât beat him up for not doing well. A mouse will bite a cat when cornered.â
âHe will just be able to scratch and tickle.â
Ramp spat out a sharp sneer, then glanced at Cyron, his brow narrowing in an odd expression.
âIâm sure theyâre keeping that little carnivore around because itâs usefulâ¦â¦. I feel strangely offended whenever I see that kid.â
âFeel offended? Isnât that what Yozen is supposed to say to you?â
âShut up. Itâs not just a feeling, Iâm talking about a visceral repulsion.â
Rampâs words gave Cyron a puzzled look.
âHate against your own kind?â
âKeep talking if you want to die.â
âNo, Ramp, if thatâs not what it is, then why does that little sickly chicken-like kid make you feel offended? Isnât that how you deal with guilt?â
âNo, itâs not that kind of feeling. Itâs justâ¦â¦. That kidâs been acting as bait for quite some time now.â
âYeah.â
âAn orphan, barely ten years old, who hasnât learned anything, has survived for far too long, and that often gives me the creeps.â
Ramp spoke solemnly, but Cyron didnât seem in the least bit inclined to take his words seriously. He laughed out loud and squeezed Rampâs shoulder.
âI can put up with no money, but I canât put up with a cowardly leader, so put your bullsh*t back in your mouth before you run off like this.â
ââ¦â¦Son of a b*tch.â
The two men chuckled and threw threatening jokes at each other. The atmosphere was jovial, but watching them, Cadel felt a chill run down his spine.
Bait. That was what they were calling Yozen. He didnât know exactly how they were using him, but it must be a matter of life and death. Exposing the small child to danger for their own selfish ends.
They were not human beings. They were waste, worse than animals. Over and over again, Cadel thought of Ramp and Cyronâs names. If they were still alive and well when this past was over, he would hunt them down and slit their throats.
After scanning the mercenary corps, Cadel turned back to Yozen. The mercenary corps was not small, but none of them cared for the lone boy.
âAll he gets for rolling like this is a piece of bread and a plate of soup.â
Yozen, who had just fulfilled his quota, wolfed down his reward of bread and soup. He could have eaten outside, but instead, he tried to do everything inside the smelly stable, where the cramped confines meant that he would get hit in the head with a horseâs tail while eating, or nearly fall over when a curious horse stuck its nose in his face.
Every single one of his actions was pitiful beyond words. Cadel stood by the side of a small child as he munched away at a puffy piece of bread. He lamented that this small, pleasant space was the only place the child felt safe.
For the rest of the day, Yozen completed the odd chore here and there, sucked down a piece of jerky for dinner like candy, and fell asleep exhausted. The next morning came quickly. The mercenary corps was on the hunt.