The crowd blocked my view of Clementine. Pushing through them was becoming harder, so I drew my sword. At the sight of the blade, the crowd recoiled in fear, instinctively parting and clearing a narrow path.
"I'm not a thief," Clementine said. Her voice remained steady, though her fingers tightened around the dagger. She never looked away from the boy clutching his bleeding hand.
"Brother, let me kill her," the one in the middle snarled, reaching for his pistol. "This bitch broke my teeth."
Then he noticed the sudden stillness around them.
They turned and saw the sword in my hand as I approached.
I studied the three teenage boys. All of them looked uneasy now, except the one in the middle, who stood rigid and defiant. I recognized them immediately as the best customers in the brothel house: the children of Isabella and Henry, the married leaders of Common Ground. Their parents were decent people, but their children—shielded from hardship—had grown arrogant and entitled to doing whatever they wanted in Common Ground. That arrogance had been carefully nurtured by influence and privilege, especially in Noah, the eldest and by far the most insufferable of the three.
"Max," Clementine said quietly as she stepped closer, her hand bleeding. I clenched the sword handle tightly, and she positioned herself just behind my shoulder.
The boys shifted. Even Noah hesitated, if only for a moment.
"What happened?" I asked.
The surrounding guards were present but inactive, watching in silence. Molly pushed through the crowd behind us, breathing hard as she scanned the scene.
"They've been following me ever since I started looking for the book," Clementine said. "I told them repeatedly I didn't want to hang out, but they didn't listen. I tried ignoring them while heading to the weapon shop, but they grabbed my hand and stopped me. They said I couldn't carry a weapon. I told them I could, but they wanted proof. I didn't have any, so I showed them your stamp. They snatched it and accused me of stealing it. I told them it was yours, but they didn't listen—they wanted to search my body in quarantine room. I didn't let them, but two of them grabbed me, so I bit one of their arms. That's when they went for a knife, so I pulled out my dagger."
I turned back to the boys, the weight of the situation settling heavily in the air.
"We were investigating," the youngest muttered, hiding the knife, barely lifting his eyes. "She wasn't in the VIP book. We thought she'd stolen someone's identity."
Noah struck him across the head. "Why the fuck are you so nervous?" he snapped. "We did nothing wrong. Don't be afraid of him. Forget what Mother and Father said—they exaggerate everything. He's just a teenager like us. Have some guts."
One of the brothers leaned in and whispered, "Dad told us not to mess with him. Let's go."
"No," Noah said sharply. "I'm not leaving until that bitch pays for breaking my teeth. And I'll take revenge for you too." He gestured at his injured brother. "Relax. He won't do anything. The guards are on our side. He wouldn't survive if we all attacked."
He drew his pistol and aimed it at me.
The guards stiffened, shifting uneasily. Several stepped forward, subtly placing themselves between me and the boys, as if shielding them from what might happen next.
At that moment, their parents arrived along with Robert and Daniel. All four leaders of the Common Ground gathered at the scene, their presence drawing a tight, uneasy silence from the crowd. As they approached, the injured boy exaggerated his condition, dropping to one knee and clutching his bleeding arm as if on the verge of collapse.
"Okay, what's going on here?" Robert asked, scanning the faces around him.
Isabella rushed to her children, immediately kneeling beside the injured boy. She barely spared Clementine a glance until her son finished explaining what had happened, then her eyes hardened into a glare.
After listening to the guards' account, Robert said evenly, "Let's calm down. This sounds like a misunderstanding. There's no need to turn it into something bigger."
"Misunderstanding?" Isabella snapped, rising to her feet. "She broke my son's teeth and injured the other. He was only investigating a suspicious girl."
"Isabella, calm down," her husband said quietly, resting a hand on her arm. "It's just a conflict between kids."
"I will not calm down," Isabella shouted, shaking him off. "She drew her weapon and harmed others inside the Common Ground. According to the rules, she should be hanged." She jabbed a finger toward Clementine.
"You're welcome to try, bitch—but be careful. I might rip your mouth off," Molly shouted back.
Isabella's eyes flicked toward her. "Watch your mouth, little girl. Don't forget where you're standing."
"I know exactly where I'm standing," Molly shot back. "Your son's playground—where he thinks he can do whatever he wants to women. So, get off your high horse and control him. If I were Clementine, I would've slit their throats."
Before the argument could escalate further, I glanced at Molly. The warning was silent but clear. She stiffened, then stepped back, lips pressed tight.
"Dad, she should be hanged," Noah added, his voice sharp but strained. His brothers quickly nodded along. "She doesn't care about the rules. She attacked us for doing our job."
Henry's gaze lingered on me before he turned to the other leaders.
"Law and order matter," he said carefully, addressing them and me. "Everyone deserves fairness. Let's hold a trial. Whoever's guilty will be punished."
"Let's de-escalate," Robert replied. "This doesn't need to go beyond a misunderstanding."
"If we ignore this, what happens to our rules?" Isabella snapped. "Will people still respect them if we excuse an armed assault? I agree with my husband. There should be a trial."
Noah sneered at Robert. "Mom, Dad, I told you not to make this fat ass a leader. Look at him—siding with a criminal. Just a manager in our family company, now pretending he's our equal."
Robert shot him a sharp glare. "Noah, watch your words before you regret them."
"What the fuck would you do—sit on me?" Noah mocked, though his shoulders were tense.
Robert clenched his fists, jaw tightening as he fought the urge to respond. He looked to the other leaders, his eyes pausing on Daniel, who stood stiff and silent. With three elders in favor, Robert exhaled and nodded.
"Fine. We'll have a trial."
Isabella smiled coldly. "Guards, arrest the girl and take her to the courthouse."
Three guards hesitated. Their eyes flicked from me to the restless crowd pressing in around us. Slowly, cautiously, they edged toward Clementine.
The moment one of them reached for her, the world snapped. Twelve sharp cracks split the air, and all twelve guards surrounding us dropped at once, each with a single bullet punched clean through the skull.
The crowd erupted in panic, screams rippling outward as people stumbled back. The four leaders stood frozen, faces drained of color.
I slid my pistol back into its holster and drew my sword again. The metal rang softly in the sudden hush.
"I've been silent this whole time. It seems that silence made you very brave," I said calmly. "Did you really think I was mute or helpless boy? Have you forgotten who I am? Let me remind you."
Fear crept into their eyes. Noah raised his pistol, hands shaking so badly the barrel wavered.
"Back the fuck away or I'll—"
His head rolled across the ground before he could finish.
Isabella collapsed over her son's body, screaming, "No! My baby!"
"What the fuck are you doing, Max?!" Henry shouted, stumbling back a step.
"Henry," I replied calmly, "living in comfort made you forget what kind of world this is. There is no law. No order. Let me remind you."
I severed his two sons' arms. The boy's scream tore through the air as he collapsed, clutching the bloody stump.
"The strong make the rules," I continued, my voice steady. "Did you forget that? And how dare you even think of harming something that is mine—something I love."
Everyone, including Robert, stared at me in horror.
Guards poured in from the gates and side streets. I raised my rifle. Shots cracked through the air in frantic return fire. One of the bullets struck my shoulder, but most of the shots hit the crowd, many of them dying before even knowing what happened. Ignoring the bullet wound, I fired back. In less than a minute, twenty-two precise shots rang out, and twenty-two guards collapsed, each dead from a clean headshot.
The crowd broke, trampling one another as they fled toward the exits.
"Everyone, STOP!" I shouted, firing into the sky.
They froze, breathing heavily. The once-bustling market fell silent, like a ghost town.
"Now," I said quietly, "let's talk."
Isabella, seeing her remaining sons bleeding and sobbing, lunged toward me in blind rage.
"No!" Henry screamed.
Her head struck the ground before she reached me, followed by her body.
"Max!" Clementine ran toward me, trying to stop me.
"I'll fucking kill you, you son of—"
Henry lunged at me, rage twisting his face. He never finished the sentence. My blade flashed once, and his skull split beneath it as he crumpled to the ground.
The remaining boys collapsed, sobbing and shaking, unable to comprehend the horror around them. I ended their suffering.
"Now the whole family is reunited in heaven," I said with a faint smile. "I'm a good person."
Robert and Daniel stared at the blood-soaked sword in my hand, their legs trembling as I stepped closer, a wide smile carved across my face. The crowd stood rigid, breath held, too afraid to move.
I raised my sword above Daniel's head, time itself seemed to pause.
"Please, Max, calm down and stop!"
Clementine grabbed me from behind, clinging to me desperately, her arms locked around my waist.
"This isn't who you are," she cried. "Please… come back to me."
Her words cut through the haze. My breathing slowed as I calmed myself, and I realized how close I had come to losing myself again. I looked at Robert and Daniel, the two I had been about to kill. Neither they nor the crowd were a threat to me.