HPL 32

chapter 32

The sky, once swallowed by darkness, was dyed in brilliant, multicolored hues. When the light disappeared, the sky returned to darkness, only to be engulfed once more in waves of light.

Bang! Pop!

Every time the fireworks erupted with a resounding crash, the city below was painted in a riot of colors.

“How close must she be to the temple for them to accept her and even put on a fireworks show?”

Marker asked, gazing up at the sky, now as bright as midday. Curiosity and fascination colored his face.

“Very close.”

Originally a god, now known as the child of a god chosen by the Creator, there was no one in this world closer to the temple than I.

A few days ago, I had visited the temple to investigate a kidnapping involving a different race and requested that the fireworks event be used as a distraction.

At the time, the priest Reman had offered not only the fireworks but also the support of paladins. I had declined the paladins, though, because too many people could interfere with a surprise attack.

“The noise should have distracted anyone inside the house considerably.”

Roy said, eyes fixed on the front, and Marker and I focused on an ordinary-looking two-story house.

The location Riel had pointed out was a civilian home right in the center of the city. Who would have guessed that the Black Dog gang would lock up someone from a different race and commit such acts in the heart of town?

“They even bought the surrounding houses to avoid being detected. The Black Dog organization can’t have enough money to buy all these houses nearby. Where did they get the funds?”

Wayne muttered, his gaze sharp. I had a hunch whose name was running through his mind—there was one woman in this city who was the richest of all.

Once again, fireworks shot into the sky. As the explosion reached its peak with a resounding boom, we moved.

Red Scorpion members leaped from their hiding spots and smashed both the front and back doors of the house.

“W-who’s there?”

“It’s a raid!”

Panicked voices spilled from inside, followed by the sounds of scuffling.

Roy, Wayne, and I charged into the house. As soon as we entered, a large man lunged toward me.

Roy swiftly pulled me aside and kicked the man. Already unconscious, he flew helplessly into a corner.

Another man rushed forward, but Wayne tripped him with a swift kick.

“Ugh, gah.”

The man tried to groan, but as Wayne stepped on his neck and ran past, he gasped for air.

Meanwhile, Wayne moved like lightning, pressing a dagger to another man’s throat.

Still so focused on others’ throats, Tommy remarked flatly, no longer surprised.

Indeed. At this rate, he might as well be a master of killing with precision strikes to the neck.

Outnumbered and unprepared, the Black Dog members quickly fell. The Red Scorpion members began binding them. Watching this, Roy suddenly raised the corner of his eyes and swiftly drew his sword.

At that moment, the door behind Roy opened, and a massive man charged out. Calm and prepared, Roy blocked the attacker’s sword.

Clang!

The swords clashed in midair.

As Roy and the attacker squared off, the man’s appearance became clear. He had a patch over one eye, was a full head taller than Roy, and his muscular body made him look imposing. This was the same man Roy had described before.

“That guy… Caesar.”

Tom hurried to assist Roy, but it wasn’t necessary.

With a slight twist of his sword, Roy disrupted Caesar, who had been putting all his strength into his attack. Caesar staggered, losing balance.

In an instant, Roy’s leg slipped between Caesar’s legs.

“Ugh—”

Caesar sank to the ground, unable to scream properly. His sword fell, and his lips trembled. Tom shuddered.

“Ouch. That must hurt.”

Other Red Scorpion members flinched as if they were attacked themselves. But Roy calmly sheathed his sword as if nothing had happened.

“Hmph. How did someone with that skill end up as a slave?”

Wayne murmured, watching Roy effortlessly subdue Caesar.

I wondered the same thing. How did someone so capable end up enslaved?

The Red Scorpions tied up all the Black Dog members and began searching the house thoroughly.

Soon, they discovered a passage leading to the basement. While half of the Red Scorpions guarded the captives, the rest of us descended.

The stairs were narrow and dark. Our lanterns were the only source of light.

Soon, a foul stench hit us.

“Ugh, the smell.”

“This is worse than a bathroom.”

Tom and Jack pinched their noses tightly, grimacing. I held my nose as well. It was a smell too vile to describe.

The deeper we went, the stronger the stench. When we found a shabby door, Marker tensed.

“Let’s open it.”

The door squeaked as Marker slowly pushed it open.

Immediately, a revolting odor assaulted us, making us instinctively groan.

Marker led the way with the lantern, revealing the space beyond.

First, we saw two cages made of thick iron bars. There were no proper toilets, and waste had accumulated in one corner.

Across from us was a long stone slab, possibly a bed, covered with a dark, grimy liquid.

Various knives, scissors, and axes hung on the walls—what they were used for was easy to imagine. The stench we smelled was a mix of blood and filth.

“Those crazy bastards…”

Someone cursed, followed by the sound of teeth grinding.

“Check them all!”

Marker barked, and the team quickly moved, their anger overpowering the stench as they scoured the basement.

I stepped forward with the others to find evidence, but I noticed Roy standing still and looked back.

His face was twisted. Even though he hadn’t wavered when Caesar attacked, his eyes now flickered ever so slightly, though they remained fixed on the basement.

I remembered the scars across Roy’s body when we first met and his extreme wariness of others. Ah, this must have been his environment.

“The smell is unbearable. Let’s wait outside.”

I returned to my spot and grabbed Roy’s right arm. He slowly turned his head toward me.

“It’s fine. We’ll go in too.”

Roy spoke casually, but his voice was stiff. Even inside, he would act normally while searching the basement. Yet his mind would be trapped in the past.

“I’m not fine. My nose feels like it’s rotting.”

I dragged Roy up the stairs.

Once upstairs, I exited through the back door. The backyard was so peaceful that what I saw inside felt almost hallucinatory.

Fireworks exploded, lighting the area briefly. Under the glow, Roy’s face was pale, sweat beading on his forehead.

His eyes were on me, but I wasn’t the object of his gaze.

“Should I get you some water?” I asked.

“No, I’m fine,” he shook his head.

“What then? What should I do?”

Roy paused.

The sky’s colors faded, leaving darkness again. In the dim light, his eyes were redder than usual, like the blood we saw in the basement.

“I want something done for me.”

His voice lowered, emotion barely perceptible. I nodded, and he slightly bowed his head.

Why isn’t he saying anything? Does he mean he needs nothing?

Fireworks shot into the air again. Just before they reached their peak, Roy spoke.

“…Tell me.”

The booming fireworks drowned out his words, but I caught the faint “Tell me.”

“Sorry, I didn’t hear properly. Tell you what?” I leaned closer. Roy moved his lips slightly.

“My name.”

He wanted me to say his name? Suddenly, why ask for that? What does it have to do with this situation? Yet somehow, I felt I should comply.

“Roy.”

Even after I said it, Roy didn’t move. Thinking he hadn’t heard, I repeated it. Still no reaction.

“Roy.”

I raised my voice and called him again. He remained motionless.

Moving slightly to check his expression, I saw his red eyes through his purple hair. He was fighting—blinded by black hatred and revulsion, his consciousness struggling.

I slowly reached out and touched his head. He flinched.

“Roy.”

I gently stroked his head while calling his name. He flinched more noticeably.

I infused my divine energy into my hand. Though he wasn’t physically injured, it felt refreshing.

As I continued, Roy eventually reached out, took my hand, and lifted his head.

He was back to his usual self—gruff, yet surprisingly considerate.

The contrast between the Roy I just saw and the Roy before was stark. And in that moment, I realized I liked this side of him.

Fireworks painted the sky again.

“Shining,” Roy murmured. I glanced upward.

“It’s the fireworks,” I said.

“I meant something else.”

Something else? I looked down at Roy. In his red eyes, I saw… me.

Was he saying I shone? Not sarcastically like Tommy. Roy’s gaze was gentle, not mocking.