Kaelen was a twenty-year-old E-Rank Hunter. He had a younger sister, Kayan, who was just about to start university, and he had promised to pay for her internship.
Ever since their mother had been hospitalized, Kaelen had been caring for his sister. Since high school, he'd been taking on dangerous Hunter jobs, constantly facing life-and-death situations. Death seemed to follow Kaelen everywhere he went.
"Hey Kayan, I'm going to be out for the day. I cooked you some dinner and lunch, so make sure to study hard," Kaelen said, grinning from ear to ear.
"Kaelen, are you going into a Gate today?" Kayan asked with a worried gaze.
"Kayan, no need to worry about me! It's only an E-Rank Gate," Kaelen joked, his grin as wide as ever.
"If you say so...!" Kayan muttered, stuffing her face with cereal. "Also, Kaelen, have you visited Mom yet this week?"
"Ugh, you've got crumbs all over your face. And I visited Mom last Monday; the doctor said she's getting better," Kaelen said, picking up his bag to leave.
Kaelen picked up his bag and left. On the way to the station, two men stepped out and blocked his path
"Hey, kid. You know this is a private street, right? If you want to pass, you gotta pay the toll," the two thugs said, grinning menacingly. The first was tall and buff with a mohawk, wearing a leather coat and skinny jeans. The second was lanky with a scarred face, wearing baggy pants and a tight rock-band shirt.
"Uh—I don't carry any cash," Kaelen said, looking up at them.
"Then take off that jacket. It looks expensive enough," the second thug said. He grinned widely, his face full of malice, almost as if he wanted Kaelen to refuse.
That hoodie was the last thing his mother had given him before she fell into her eternal sleep.
"I—I'm sorry, but I can't give you this. I'll give you anything else, but not the hoodie," Kaelen said, a fierce light flickering in his eyes.
"You punk. We were being nice, but we aren't asking again. Take off the damn hoodie!" the first thug growled, cracking his knuckles while the second one moved to flank him.
"I refuse," Kaelen said fearlessly, his gaze determined.
The first thug swung a heavy fist at Kaelen's head. To the thug's surprise, Kaelen's hand shot up, blocking the blow. But before Kaelen could counter, the second thug stepped in from behind, driving a fist deep into Kaelen's gut. The air left his lungs in a wheeze, and Kaelen collapsed to the ground, retching.
Kaelen clutched his stomach, the world spinning as he retched on the pavement. But as the skinny thug reached down to grab his hood, something snapped in Kaelen.
With a roar of pure desperation, Kaelen lunged forward from the ground, driving his shoulder into the skinny thug's knees. There was a sickening pop, and the man screamed, toppling over. Kaelen didn't stop he scrambled up and swung his heavy bag like a flail, the corner of it catching the mohawk thug square in the jaw.
The big man stumbled back, spitting out a tooth and a spray of crimson. "You little rat!"
For a second, it looked like Kaelen might actually win. His eyes were wide, glowing with a fierce, protective light. But he was still just an E-Rank with no formal training.
The mohawk thug recovered, his face twisting into a mask of rage. He didn't punch this time; he used his weight. He tackled Kaelen against the brick wall with the force of a runaway truck. The back of Kaelen's head bounced off the masonry with a dull thud,
Dazed, Kaelen felt the world go gray.
"Hold him!" the big one barked.
The skinny thug, limping and cursing, grabbed Kaelen's arms from behind, pinning them against the wall. The mohawk thug stepped in close, burying his fist into Kaelen's ribs once, twice, three times. The sound of the impacts was like a hammer hitting a side of beef.
Kaelen's legs gave out, but they didn't let him fall. They dragged him to the center of the alley and threw him down.
"Think you're the shit, huh?" The big man's heavy boot came down hard on Kaelen's ribs. Crack. Then came the "stomping." It wasn't a fight anymore; it was an execution. One boot hit his shoulder, another his thigh. Kaelen curled into a fetal position, his arms wrapped tightly around his chest not to protect his head, but to hide the hoodie.
"Give. It. Up!" The thugs took turns, their heavy soles thudding against his spine and ribs. Kaelen's vision flickered, his breath coming in ragged, bloody gasps.
Finally, they stopped, breathing hard and nursing their own bruises. The mohawk thug spat on Kaelen's trembling form. "Leave him. He's pathetic. He's not even worth the thread."
They left him there, broken and bleeding in the dirt, the silence of the alleyway only broken by Kaelen's choked sobs as he clutched the dirty, footprint-covered fabric of his mother's last gift.
Kaelen lay in the dirt long after the sound of the thugs' footsteps had faded. His breath came in ragged, wheezing hitches, each one sending a spike of fire through his cracked ribs. Slowly, painfully, he uncurled his body. His fingers were stained with grime and his own blood, but they were still gripped tight around the fabric of his hoodie.
It was dirty. It was torn. But it was still his.
Kaelen groaned, dragging his broken body to the Hunter Association's infirmary. Every breath felt like glass in his lungs.
"Kaelen, again?" the nurse sighed, taping a bandage over his split brow. "An E-Rank shouldn't be this beat up before the raid even starts."
Kaelen didn't answer. He just stared at his bruised reflection. If only I were stronger, he thought, his knuckles turning white. If only I had the power to stop being everyone's punching bag.
He didn't go home. He couldn't afford to.
He swapped his blood-stained hoodie for a cheap combat shirt, tucked his mother's gift safely into his bag, and limped toward the Gate. The emerald portal loomed at the end of the street, humming with a low, vibrating energy.
"Late as usual, kid," the lead Hunter scoffed, eyeing Kaelen's swollen face. "Try not to die in the first room. We need you to carry the loot."
Kaelen ignored the sting of the insult and the throbbing in his ribs. He gripped his bag and stepped into the shimmering green light.
Just one more haul, he prayed. Just let me survive one more day.