The slum stretched as far as the eye could see, a sea of crooked shacks huddled together like they were clinging to life itself. Most of the houses were nothing more than patched-up shelters built from scraps of cardboard, rusted tin sheets, and broken bricks. The walls leaned at odd angles as if a single strong wind could blow them down. The ground was hard and dry, littered with bits of trash and puddles of dark, stagnant water that gave off a foul smell. Here and there, stray dogs dug through piles of garbage, growling at each other over scraps of rotten food.
Among the filth and ruin, a young boy was on his knees, sifting through a mountain of rubbish with thin, trembling hands. His clothes were nothing but rags—torn, stained, and caked with dirt. His black hair stuck out in every direction, spiky and wild, like it hadn't been washed in weeks. Sweat mixed with grime on his face, making his skin look darker than it really was. And then there were his eyes—sharp, bright red, like dying embers in a pile of ash. They carried a hunger that had nothing to do with food.
"Uhhh... there should be some over here..."
His voice was hoarse, cracked from thirst, but he didn't stop searching.
He pushed aside empty bottles, broken plates, and crumpled papers until—clink! A faint metallic sound rang out. His head shot up, eyes wide. He dug faster, heart pounding, until his fingers closed around something cold and hard.
It was a small knife. The blade was chipped and dull, but faint lines of light ran along its surface, glowing ever so slightly as if struggling to stay alive.
"Yes! I found an enchanted one! This should be sold for a pretty good price."
A smile cracked through the dirt on his face. He slipped the knife into his pocket carefully, like it was treasure, then went back to digging.
By the time he was done, his pockets jingled with bottle caps and marbles—worth almost nothing, but still something. He stood up slowly, his back aching, and wiped the sweat and dust from his face with the edge of his sleeve.
As he stepped out of the slum's maze of shacks, the sky opened up above him. A strange sun hung there—pure white, as if someone had bleached the color out of it. It didn't shine or burn, but the world was still bright under its cold light. Wisps of clouds drifted lazily across the sky like they had nowhere to be.
"It's sure hot today," he muttered, squinting up before heading down the cracked, dusty road.
He walked deeper into the broken-down part of the district, where the air was thick with dust and heat. Houses leaned against each other like tired old men, built from whatever scraps people could find—rusted sheets of metal, cracked bricks, even pieces of wood that looked ready to fall apart any second. The paths between them were narrow, filled with puddles of murky water and piles of trash buzzing with flies. The smell of smoke, sweat, and decay mixed together, making the place feel heavy and suffocating.
He stopped in front of one of the smaller homes. Its roof sagged in the middle, and the walls were patched together from so many different materials it looked like a child had built it. Pushing the flimsy door open, he stepped inside.
"Mr. Haibeth! I've come to sell some items," He called out.
The inside was dim, the only light coming through a small hole in the roof where a strip of sunlight fell across the floor. The room was tiny—barely big enough for a table, a stool, and a small pile of blankets in one corner. Dust floated in the air with every step he took.
An old man sat on the stool, hunched over, his gray hair sticking out in clumps. His clothes were patched so many times the original fabric was impossible to guess. Despite the heat, he had a thin blanket over his shoulders, as if the weight made him feel safer somehow. His wrinkled face turned slowly toward the boy.
"Oh, Rainzy, you came again," the old man said, his voice raspy but kind.
"Yes!" Rainzy grinned. "There were no people out today much. I think because it's so hot, so I took the chance and searched for the items."
He hurried over to the old man and laid out his treasures on the small table—marbles, bottle caps, and the faintly glowing knife.
"My, my… you've collected a lot," the old man said, leaning closer to inspect them.
Rainzy smiled wider, proud of himself.
After a moment, the old man reached into a small pouch tied to his belt and counted out six small coins, each stamped with the shape of a single leaf.
"Here. Six Leaz for all of this," the old man said.
Rainzy's eyes lit up as the coins clinked into his hand.
"Woah, thank you very much, Mr. Haibeth!" he said, grinning from ear to ear. He carefully slipped the coins into his pocket like they were precious jewels.
But then the old man's face grew serious. Deep lines formed on his forehead as he looked at the boy.
"Rainzy… you shouldn't stay outside for too long."
Rainzy tilted his head. "Huh? Why?"
The old man sighed heavily. "Don't you know? People are saying there's a sickness spreading. They say folks in the capital are dying… and now it's reached here in Kemining too."
Rainzy smiled faintly, like he didn't want to believe it. "Oh, don't worry. I'll be perfectly fine! Now then, I'll be going."
The old man gave a small, tired smile and nodded slowly.
Rainzy turned and ran out, his footsteps echoing against the dirt floor as he disappeared into the heat.
The road he walked on was cracked and dusty, the air shimmering from the heat. Only a few people moved here and there—faces tired, shoulders slumped, each carrying baskets or small sacks as they hurried about their business. Most kept their heads down, too drained to talk under the burning sky.
Rainzy strolled along, kicking a small pebble as he went, a smile tugging at his lips. He talked to himself softly, like the words were meant only for his own ears.
"With six Leaz… I can buy three buns… hmm, but maybe some carrots too," he muttered, eyes glinting with excitement. "I already bought bread from the morning's collection, so… yeah! I think I can buy carrots! What a happy day for me… and I don't have to share them with anyone! Yayyy!"
He grinned wide, already imagining the food in his hands.
Then—clatter!
The sharp sound of cans falling nearby snapped him out of his daydream. He turned his head quickly. Off to the side was a heap of old metal junk—rusted pipes, broken pots, and bent tools piled high like a forgotten graveyard of iron. But something else caught his eye.
Lying on the ground between the scraps was a coin.
Rainzy's eyes lit up like a child seeing candy. He dashed forward, crouched low, and snatched it up, brushing the dust off eagerly.
"A Leaz coin! Today really is a happy day for me!" he laughed, pocketing it proudly.
But before he could celebrate further, a strange sound reached his ears.
Scritch… scritch…
It was soft, like tiny feet crawling over metal. Rainzy turned toward the noise, frowning. On the ground near the pile of junk, something moved.
It was small. Very small.
A strange insect crept forward—a creature unlike any bug Rainzy had ever seen. Its body was pure white, glistening like it was made of liquid rather than flesh. Its thin legs moved in a jerky, unnatural way, and its watery body shimmered faintly under the sun.
Rainzy froze, his eyes wide. "What… is that—"
Before he could finish, the thing jumped.
Startled, Rainzy stumbled back, throwing his hand up as if to block it. But the insect didn't stop—it struck his palm, and in the next instant, it crawled inside his skin.
Rainzy's whole body went cold. He looked down in horror. His hand… it was moving. The shape of the creature twisted under his skin, wriggling, climbing upward.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!" he screamed, his voice cracking.
It crawled higher, sliding beneath his skin like a living nightmare. He grabbed his arm, clawing at it desperately, but nothing stopped its advance.
"No! No! What is this thing?!" Rainzy cried, his fingers digging into his own neck as the insect slid up, then down into his chest.
Then—thump!
A heartbeat. Louder than he had ever heard in his life.
Rainzy froze, eyes wide, mouth trembling.
And then came the pain.
It wasn't in his flesh. It was deeper, buried somewhere inside him, like something was tearing at his very soul. His knees buckled, his body collapsing as both hands clutched his chest. His mouth opened wide, but no sound came out.
His veins turned dark, spreading like blood-red vines across his entire body. His heart pounded louder and louder—beat… beat… beat—each throb shaking through him like it wanted to explode.
Water spilled from his mouth, his eyes rolling back. The pain drowned every thought in his head until he couldn't even scream anymore.
Finally… his body went limp.
his eyes closing as the heartbeat echoed one last time before everything went black.