[Ryomen Gang Headquarters - Dawn]
The first threads of dawn crept cowardly through the cracks of the dark basement, and the scent of blood clung stubbornly to my clothes. I entered the headquarters with heavy steps—not the heaviness of fatigue, but the weight of the act. The basement was buzzing with activity; gang members were beginning to return from the "Cleansing Mission," their faces wearing a mix of exhaustion and bloodlust-fueled euphoria.
As soon as I entered alone, all eyes locked onto me. Everyone knew that "Garmo" and "Volk" had been with me in the same zone, but I was the only one returning from that hell.
"Ray!" Skyro shouted, striding toward me with wide steps, his eyes scanning the copious blood staining my hood. "Where are Garmo and Volk? And why did you return alone?"
I lowered my head slightly and released a long exhale charged with feigned sorrow and suppressed anger. "They fell... We were ambushed by treachery I hadn't accounted for."
Silence fell immediately. The shock of the news froze everyone; Garmo wasn't an easy fighter, and Volk was skilled in surveillance. Skyro asked sharply, tightening his fist, "How?! Who dared to touch Ryomen's men in our own territory?"
"We were finishing clearing the tavern..." I began to narrate my lie coldly, my voice coming out hoarse. "Suddenly, two figures emerged from the shadows. They weren't rabble; their movements suggested they were professional assassins or elite mercenaries. They pounced on Garmo and drove daggers into his back before he even realized they were there. As for Volk, he tried to intervene, but one of them was a skilled marksman; he took his head off with a single strike before he could blink."
I continued, averting my gaze: "I managed to kill one of them with great difficulty, crushing his skull, but the second was like a demon... too fast and equipped with smoke bombs. I tried to pursue him through the alleys, but dawn had broken, and he disappeared into the crowd of refugees and soldiers."
Skyro slammed his fist onto the table until the wood cracked. "Damn it! They kill my men and flee?!" he screamed in overwhelming rage, turning to his subordinates: "Search every corner! I want the head of the one who escaped! I don't care who it is; Ryomen does not let its men's blood go in vain!"
Everyone dispersed in a state of alert, searching for the "phantom killer." I walked heavily toward my room, while Nero watched me from the corner with eyes full of terror; he knew I was the "Ghost" capable of creating miracles and massacres, but he was too weak to utter a word. I lay down on my wooden bed and closed my eyes. The hardest part of the plan had succeeded: absolute silence.
[The Capital - Afternoon]
I woke up as the afternoon set in. I left the headquarters disguised in an old cloak and a scarf covering most of my features, for the capital was no longer a safe place for the "Ghost." I walked through the side streets, observing the movement of soldiers filling the squares.
I stopped in front of a large stone wall where people had gathered, whispering in fear and curiosity. I moved closer, and my eyes collided with a massive poster bearing a rough sketch of me, and words written in cold blood:
[WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE: THE GHOST] [CRIME: Executing a Royal Guard and desecrating the Grand Arena] [REWARD: 10,000 GOLD COINS]
I felt the "Eyes of Sin" pulse beneath my hood. 10,000 gold coins! This amount was enough to make a brother kill his brother in Draka. I was walking through a city where everyone had become a potential enemy. Everyone coveted this gold, and King Baron had spared no effort in making my head the most expensive thing in the kingdom.
[Eastern Forest - The Hidden Routine]
Days passed, and my life became a precise division between death and life.
Every dawn, before the capital awoke, I would head toward the Eastern Forest. I carried supplies—meat and fresh water. I sneaked like a ghost between the trees until I reached the secret sanctuary behind the waterfall.
The mother always greeted me with a smile filled with tears and gratitude. "Thank you, Mr. Ray... If not for you, we would be food for worms by now." She would say this while tidying the simple space I had made for them.
As for Rio... he was another story.
Every day, from the moment I set foot in their place, he would approach me, his eyes gleaming with a challenge that didn't belong to a child. "Mr. Ray... please, train me. I want to be strong like you."
I would look at him coldly and reply with one word: "No."
He would persist, following me as I gathered firewood, watching my movements as I trained in secret, asking me: "Why do you refuse? You told me in the tavern that strength requires pain, and I am ready for pain!"
I would remain silent. I knew the pain I spoke of wasn't just physical wounds, but the tearing of the soul. I didn't want this child to taste the bitterness of "self-slaughter" or the coldness of killing at such an early age. I wanted him to live what remained of his childhood in this hideout.
[One Week Later - The Moment of Breaking]
The scene repeated for seven consecutive days. Rio didn't tire or bore. He tried to mimic my movements with a tree branch, falling, getting hurt, then standing up again with his eyes fixed on me.
On the eighth day, just before I left with the sunrise, Rio stood in front of me, blocking my path with his small body. There were no tears in his eyes this time; instead, there was a terrifying determination—a determination that reminded me of myself when I was trying to reassemble my torn nerves.
"Mr. Ray..." he said in a calm voice, the calm before the storm. "If you don't train me, I will leave this forest and go to the capital. I will try to fight alone, and I will die. If you truly want to protect me, then teach me how to protect myself... otherwise, let me die with honor instead of hiding like a rat."
I looked at him for a long time. His silence, his stance, and that look in his eyes... everything told me that this child's innocence had effectively died in that tavern, and what remained was a raw "blade" waiting to be honed.
I closed my eyes and felt the weight of fate. I sighed deeply, then placed my hand on the hilt of my heavy blade.
I looked directly into his eyes and said a single word that shook the stillness of the forest:
"Fine."
Rio's eyes widened, and a deep silence fell, while his mother watched from afar with fear mixed with pride. Rio didn't know that this word was his ticket to hell, and that the coming days would make him wish he had remained hidden.
"But remember, Rio..." I added, slowly drawing my blade so it glinted under the sunlight filtering through the trees. "From today, you will forget the meaning of comfort, and you will learn that strength is not a gift... but something snatched from the jaws of death."