[Raven's POV]
The warehouse was burning, and I stood in its heart. My body was exhausted, my hand barely strong enough to grip the handle of Wave Blade. I closed my eyes, and its blade extended before me.
From within the flames, the merchant emerged. His skin had turned into a charred, cracked layer. I ran toward him if you could call what I did running. When I got close, he did nothing. He just opened his chest. And then I understood he wanted the end too. The blade of Wave Blade pierced his body easily, without resistance.
His body shuddered before falling to the ground, and the moment it hit, he began reverting to his human form. In his final moments, he did only one thing he smiled. Maybe he smiled because I relieved him. Maybe he was thankful, or mocking, or perhaps regretful. But I didn't care.
After that, I collapsed to my knees. I could no longer stand, not even lift my head. I sat there, among the rubble, among the burnt bodies of children, while the echo of that bastard's final smile still haunted me.
If someone were to ask me now if I regretted what I did, I wouldn't hesitate in my answer:
"No."
For the first time in years, I had done the right thing. I closed my eyes, ready for the end. But then I heard a voice from afar… an unbearably irritating voice.
"This is a terrible place to sleep, don't you think?"
I opened my eyes and saw Jivan approaching. I sighed in annoyance and said:
"What brought you back, you idiot?"
"Is that how you greet someone who came to save you?"
"No one asked you to. I don't need your help."
"Oh? Funny, I didn't know you enjoyed napping in the middle of a fire."
"I told you to leave. I don't need you."
"Now's not the time for pride. We have to get out of here quickly."
"You don't understand. Even if I leave, they'll hunt me down to the death."
"Because of the kids?"
"Gang laws. No interfering in other people's business."
"There's no proof. Everything's going to burn."
"They have their ways of finding information."
"You're a stubborn man."
Suddenly, without warning, he bent down, grabbed me, and slung me over his shoulder.
"What the hell are you doing?! Put me down, you idiot!"
"Hold on tight, little princess."
***
In a shadowed corner far from the flames stood Doctor Valentine Crow. He wasn't there physically he was watching everything through his black metallic sphere, which hovered steadily before him.
His half lidded eyes stared into it, his expression as cold as stone. The plan hadn't gone as he intended. The father was supposed to end his son's life with his own hands. That's how he had arranged the scenario, built over forty years.
But just when his plan was about to be complete, he lost control of his puppet. His mouth went dry as he watched the reflection of the scene inside the sphere. He ran a long finger over its surface, and the image shrank slightly.
"This wasn't what I planned…"
He had waited patiently forty long years of slow breaking, pushing toward the abyss, constructing a shattered being that could be reshaped at will.
He had wanted to destroy that man completely to make him kill his son with his own hands, to complete the crime and then look into his eyes. That moment would have been the final break, the point of reshaping.
Only when the father was utterly broken could the mind's instinct collapse, allowing the authority of madness to settle into his body without robbing him of his sanity.
He had failed in that now, but he wasn't angry. He looked at the sphere again, pressed his thumb against its surface, and the light went out instantly.
Then he turned and muttered:
"No matter every delay hides its own advantage."
***
[Jivan's POV]
I dragged Raven outside, and he was still screaming like a madman. I expected him to kick, bite, and curse me out. But he just screamed until he went silent. Then I looked at him and saw he'd lost consciousness. I exhaled, relieved at least a little then ran out of the burning building.
I had no idea what had just happened. Everything went off script. I only wanted to free the kids a simple, straightforward plan that didn't involve fire, deadly fights, or flaming monsters. But of course, this is a crazy world. I ended up watching Raven fight a burning slave trader.
Will the gangs really come after me now? Or is Raven exaggerating? What if he's not? What if they have some insane way to track who tampered with their shipments, who killed their men, who burned their property?
What if they can find out we were here even without physical evidence? It's only been a week since I woke up in Jivan's body, and I'm already on the verge of dying for the third time.
I need to find a way back to my real world fast.
…
As soon as I reached the apartment, I shoved the door open and went straight to Raven's room the one he always kept me away from. The moment I stepped inside, I froze.
The room was tidy, the walls clean, the floor free of dust. The bed an actual bed with sheets that didn't smell of mold. The curtains were thick, blocking the light, and on one of the wooden shelves was a neat row of books.
"You could've given me this room, you snake. But no, you stuck me in that prison cell you call a bedroom."
Now wasn't the time to complain. I lifted his body and carefully laid him on the bed. Then I stepped back and stood against the wall, staring at him in silence.
The question now was do I take him to the hospital? Logically? Yes. Medically? Absolutely. Humanely? Probably.
But realistically? Going to the hospital would mean personally handing him over to the gangs, neatly wrapped with a kiss on the forehead. Every hospital here, one way or another, is under gang control even if they don't show it openly.
Then there's the other problem the cost of treatment in this city could serve as a punishment in itself. And me? I barely have enough to buy a lousy dinner from some shady food cart on the corner. How could I afford treatment for Raven, who can barely breathe?
I ran a hand down my face, pressed my fingers to my forehead, and sighed deeply. Then I started pacing slowly around the room.
Should I run? Leave him here? But where would I go? In this place, running just means going in circles. In the end, they'll find you no matter where you hide. This place is like a swamp the more you try to get out, the deeper you sink.
I looked at him again. Despite everything his arrogance, his attitude this bastard risked his life to save kids whose names he didn't even know. I thought he had no heart, but it turns out he's more human than I expected.
"And who saves the savior?"
I walked to the window, pulled the curtain slightly. Outside, smoke rose from a distant chimney. Then I slowly returned to his bedside, sat on the floor, leaned my back against the wall, and rested my head on my knees.
"Well, Raven no hospital, no running. Just the two of us, and a pile of bad decisions waiting for their consequences."
"What's this?"
I turned toward the voice. The blond kid was standing by the bookshelf, his wide eyes fixed on the titles, his small finger pointing hesitantly at them. I'd forgotten the kids were even here.
"They're books."
"Books?" he muttered. "Do you eat them?"
In another corner, the black haired boy with crimson eyes sat in a chair, arms crossed over his chest, feet dangling without touching the floor.
The third child was sitting on the ground, back against the wall, head tilted to the side not asleep, not quite awake. His gaze was distant.
I walked slowly toward the blond boy, knelt to his level, and said with a fake smile:
"No, books aren't for eating. Books are for reading. They're stories."
He asked innocently:
"What's a story?"
"It's a collection of tales."
"And what's a tale?"
I sighed, scratched the back of my head, and muttered while looking away:
"I'll explain it to you later."