Once he entered, the scenery far surpassed his awful expectations. It was so beautiful that the thoughts and recollections he had of the event that had occurred moments before were diverted for a split second.

The moon's splendor was being obscured by a labyrinth of dazzling lights. Showering everyone with dazzling bright colors, and laughter ringing throughout the entire district. Crowds gathered on multiple street corners. Structures of varying heights which are painted in hues that complement the rainbow-colored vibrancy that is shone across the district.
 
In awe, Noah accidentally muttered, “Wow! W-what beauty! Is this really the red-light district?”

Noah walked into one of the crowds by the corner of the street near to where he once stood, curious as to why they were being so rowdy. As he struggled to squeeze through every small gap to get to the front, he irritably muttered, “Why is it so difficult to get to the front of this crowd?”

When Noah finally reached the front, he didn’t have the time to celebrate. The sight he witnessed was enough to render his mind blank and his voice speechless.

Two slaves were fighting; collars worn on their necks and heavy chains tied onto their ankles. Their bodies were covered with wounds and scars that even a soldier who had gone to war had less. They were drenched with ichor, and many other dead slaves laying waste on the ground. Limbs, teeth, flesh, blood-splattered shards, and even smashed eyes littered the ground. Red liquid stained the entire wall and ground.

Two remaining survivors were panting and appeared as if they were about to collapse at any second. One of them had their entire right arm ripped off all the way to the end of the shoulder which was causing him to lose a large amount of blood. The skin on the other man's right shoulder, right chest, and entire right upper arm were torn off, revealing the muscles.

The two slaves exchanged punches, each aiming for the other's weak points. The one with one arm aiming at the other's exposed muscles, and the other hitting the open wound of the one-armed man. They were both battling for their lives, desperate for their own survival.

When Noah regained his composure, his ears were nearly deafened from the bombardment of sounds that came from the crowd. "What are you doing, fatty, how are you losing?" "Kill him, you scumbag!" "You better win fucker, I spent my entire life savings on you!" "If you lose, I'll murder you myself!"

Threats, encouragement, and laughter erupted from the crowd. With the two remaining slaves on the verge of passing out. The colors of their eyes started to fade, turning white, while still struggling to raise their defenses.

Noah had his entire body shake in fear and shock, maybe due to the startling revelation of humanity's true nature. But it wasn't until he looked down at his hand, did he realized his body was trembling. After that, he developed a painstaking headache, and in his eyes, the entire world appeared to be spinning.

Why am I feeling afraid…? No one is going to hurt me, so why? – Noah fearfully wondered.

Slowly, as the cheers sounded more and more like a beast’s, no, demonic shriek, Noah couldn’t take it anymore and he collapsed to his back.

His instincts returned, and he chose flight once more, crawling back until his head abruptly collided with something.

When Noah glanced back, he noticed a man peering down at him.

The man sported a single white feathered wing tattoo on his neck and a chain piercing from his nose to his ear. His hair was black and unkempt, stretching all the way to his shoulder. He was dressed casually in a loose shirt and jeans.

He asked Noah, “Oi, kid, you lost or something, this is not a place for a little kid to be in, is it?”

Out of shock and panic, Noah couldn’t move an inch, and when he attempted to speak, he couldn’t utter a single word.

“Oh wait, I forgot it’s impolite if I don’t introduce myself first before I ask," he said, rubbing his head. “Hi, I'm Troy, and I'm a believer of Harethism, and, uh, never mind, I suppose you only need to know this much."

After a minute of being Noah unable to utter a single word, Troy’s patience had already worn thin.

“So, are you going to answer?” Troy impatiently remarked.

The feeling of fear almost doubled from when he saw the slaves fight. It was the same kind of feeling he felt by the entrance, albeit a little less terrifying. Beneath the poker face Troy held, Noah could detect the annoyance he was feeling.

“Ah, I’m sorry, usually I’m not like this and I don’t get annoyed easily, but if you’re not going to answer me at least s- “

Two people wearing blue vests rushed up to Troy and cut him off from speaking. "Troy! Troy!" shouted one of them, as the other panted.

"What is it, what's the rush?" Troy inquired, his chilly poker expression softening into a smile.

“The boss told us to finish the job quickly and get back,” the person panting responded, while his head facing down, still exhausted from the run.

Troy cheerfully said, "All right then, let's get this over with as soon as possible"

He walked into the crowd, clapping his hands above his head, attracting their attention. “Alright! Alright, everyone, the show is now over!”

The whole crowd grew outraged, throwing their threats toward him, but he didn't appear to mind. Then, an evidently drunk man approached and glared down at him in the eye. "Fuck off brat! This is not the place for a brat like you to play. Just go home and cry to your mommy," he yelled.

Noah bolted away from there as soon as he noticed that Troy wasn’t paying any attention to him.

Troy frowned at the man, and said, “Quite amazing, mister, you’ve done something hundreds of people couldn’t do.”

The two men who previously raced to Troy noticed something was off and backed away from him, with one of them pondering – Troy rarely ever makes any expression that visibly shows him ever getting upset, and he always says he never gets upset even though he often does. But he never made an annoyed or sad expression, generally, he'd just be in his poker face.

The drunk man patted Troy’s head and sarcastically retorted, “Huh? Why are you making such a scary face? Your uncle here is quite hu-”

Troy clamped his hand around the man's throat, preventing him from speaking or breathing. When the crowd saw this, their voices came to a halt. The once-confident guy gradually went blue, which was the result of a chain of events in which his windpipe was rapidly crushed. The areas where Troy's finger made contact began to expel scarlet fluids, which trickled onto the floor.

Before the man could die, Troy whispered something, “Know your place before you speak.”

The crowd faded almost a second after. They were probably afraid that if they didn't obey his commands, they'd be the next ones to die.  Following the dispersal of the crowd, the two slaves collapsed from exhaustion, and their wounds had taken their toll, killing them both.

Looking at the slaves, Troy sighed, “I really hate people who treat others like this, even when they’re both humans.”

He then reasoned in his mind – Now I see why that threat was created and is coming as stated in the holy book ‘Verden’. Well, I hope all the people who were involved will rest in peace.

Troy looked back and saw Noah missing, wondering – Hm? Where did the kid go? Oh well…