Chapter 3: My Family (Part 1)
The cart moved steadily along the main road after passing through the narrow doorway, finally slowing to a stop to let other carts pass.
"Mr. Nate, it looks like this is where we part ways," David said, his face heavy with sadness.
Nate nodded, gratitude in his eyes. "Yes… thank you for saving my life. I will never forget this favor."
He began to rise from the bench, ready to step toward the door. But David stopped him again, producing something seemingly out of thin air and handing it to him.
It was a simple black robe with a hood, intended to conceal him.
Nate's eyes widened slightly in surprise as he took it. David noticed the expression and added, "Just wear it to avoid any unexpected trouble. You're the young master of a high-ranking family. Surely, enemies are lurking, waiting for any chance to exploit your family for their own gain."
Nate absorbed the warning, nodding slowly. It makes sense… no family of higher rank would ignore the opportunity to weaken a rival.
He drew the hood over his head and stepped toward the door. Before he could leave, David stopped him once more.
"Is there something else?" Nate asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
David produced a small leather bag and handed it over. Nate unfastened it to find it filled with gold coins.
A small smile crossed David's face. "Take this. I'm sure you don't have any of your own."
Nate's lips curved into a brief smile. "Thank you."
He stepped off the cart and walked along the main road, his thoughts occupied with the journey ahead toward the family mansion.
After some time, hunger began to gnaw at him, his stomach growling insistently. With no choice, he searched for a decent place to eat.
Eventually, he spotted a modest roadside restaurant, its reputation evident from the line of people entering and leaving.
He passed through the ornate white gate and found a young female receptionist standing behind a wooden desk, dressed in red. She smiled warmly. "Sir, are you looking for a table? If so, I can have someone guide you to an empty one. For pre-booked tables, simply provide your name and reservation time, and we'll take care of the rest."
Nate replied, "I need a table."
The receptionist gestured politely for him to wait, then returned with a man dressed in the same red as her. He approached Nate. "This way, sir."
The man led him to a table overlooking the main road, draped with a rich red cloth. The chairs were white, centered with crimson accents. "Please, have a seat, sir," the waiter said as he moved one chair closer.
Nate sat, scanning the long menu. He decided after a few minutes and placed his order. First came a glass of water, which he had requested.
While waiting for his meal, Nate observed the lively scene around him: knives chopping meat, thistles thumping on boards, the chatter and clatter from outside.
Soon, the waiter began placing dishes before him. Nate ate steadily, never pausing, finishing every plate.
People nearby couldn't help but watch, their expressions shifting with surprise. Nate overheard one whisper, "Where does he put all that food? Isn't there a limit to his stomach?" He ignored the comment, continuing to eat.
When he finished, he called for the bill. The waiter nodded and disappeared briefly.
Returning moments later, the waiter placed the paper listing every dish Nate had consumed. His eyes widened at the total. The waiter simply smiled, saying nothing. Nate exhaled and began counting coins from the bag, placing roughly three-quarters of them on the table before standing and leaving.
As he exited, the waiter called after him, "Thank you for choosing our restaurant. We hope to see you again."
Who would come back… Nate thought grimly, a pang of sadness crossing his face.
After leaving the restaurant, Nate walked along a narrow path that led toward a long wall enclosing a specific area of the town. A wooden sign read "Field Family".
People moved in and out, each seemingly carrying out their own duties within the family. Nate observed quietly, recognizing that everyone belonged to the Field family.
Passing through a small tunnel, he recalled memories of visiting this area before, when the previous owner of his body—whom he sometimes remembered as the angel—often came here to eat or shop. He even remembered the brothel where everyone knew her name, and how lively her presence had once been.
Determined not to be distracted, Nate pressed on toward his destination. Soon, he reached a section completely enclosed by walls, stopping at a gate made of thick metal bars.
Shock coursed through him. Several soldiers lay sprawled at the entrance, blood and entrails scattered across the ground. Some were completely charred.
What happened here? A domestic fight, or an attack from another family? Nate's stomach turned at the horrific sight. No… attacking another family without declaring war is a crime in this kingdom.
He forced himself to move forward, stepping over blood and viscera, tears threatening to fall at the memory of the fallen.
As he neared the tunnel exit, a bright light reflected sharply, making it hard to see ahead. Beyond the glare, a scene unfolded that would forever be etched in his memory.
The garden, once beautiful and serene, was now a blood-stained battlefield. Corpses lay everywhere, grass and flowers soaked red. The stench of death made him gag.
Nate collapsed onto the ground, unable to withstand the horror, and wept at the carnage. Ahh… what the hell happened here?
Mustering his courage, he reminded himself of his goal: to check whether his father and little sister had survived. Despite his nausea, he advanced toward a palace with its entrance stained in red, a house of terror surrounded by swords, weapons, and corpses.
He carefully approached the broken staircase leading to the door, avoiding the bodies as best as he could. Black-armored corpses caught his attention, their faces burn
t beyond recognition. If relatives had arrived, they would never identify them.