* * *

Arriving at his destination, El hastily unlocked the door and rushed inside, heading straight to his room. He rummaged through the drawer of his study table until he finally found what he was looking for.

It was a map—a simple creation made by his own hand with a pencil on a piece of cheap white paper.

He had copied it from a large map displayed on an equally large wooden board in the plaza, the city's public square, which was always bustling with visitors.

He hadn’t yet fully examined the map, though, as he had been preoccupied with reading many other books and had carelessly left it tucked away in a drawer.

Now, however, he needed it. He quickly tried to memorize the relevant parts, especially focusing on the directions to the mayor’s office.

It was a stroke of luck, too, because since waking up in this room for the very first time that day, he had somehow not experienced any of the memory lapses that had plagued him in the village.

Back then, despite his extensive reading and the knowledge he had accumulated, he would sometimes—often, depending on his luck—lose chunks of his memories out of nowhere without warning. This often left him feeling disoriented and disconnected from reality.

Now, once El had committed the path to memory, he swiftly put everything back in its place.

Stepping away from the bedroom and the house, he locked the door behind him and stepped outside.

He walked down the narrow alleyway, pulling on his hoodie and donning a black mask that he had found in the drawer for unknown reasons—perhaps it had been purposely left there. Who knew…

As he walked, he suddenly veered off the original path that led to the main road, taking a different route. Finding the streets deserted, he quickened his pace.

After spending considerable time reading various books from the wooden bookshelf in his room, he had learned that the house where he lived, along with the alleyway he was traversing, served as a dividing line between two regions in the city: the 'underside,' or Downtrodden region, and the 'upper side,' where the normal citizens resided in Mirthwater.

As he moved further away from the house, he unexpectedly encountered five individuals who blocked his path. They were startled at first, having heard footsteps approaching their secluded spot where they often relaxed.

Their initial reaction was one of fear; they assumed guards from the upper side had come to cause trouble, as had happened many times before.

A few guards, with their peculiar tendencies and strange fetishes, often took pleasure in harassing or beating up people from the underside.

This group initially planned to flee the area as quickly as possible, as individuals from the underside were not permitted to be outside the fences according to regulations.

However, one of the individuals soon realized that the figure approaching them was just a small kid wearing a gray jacket and a black mask.

Now here El was, standing before people who, just from their demeanor alone—or perhaps from their pale, sickly looks—were rather average in height and scrawny in frame. He understood right away that they were people from the underside.

“Bloody fockin’ hell, kid, you scared us,” one of the men exclaimed loudly, causing the others, who had been preparing to flee, to turn their heads in surprise.

One of them, who had been the first to run away and was now quite far from the others, glanced back nervously upon hearing the cry.

* * *

As the others realized that El wasn’t a guard, they returned to their original positions, this time intentionally blocking the road.

“What are you doing here, you little bastard? If you don’t give me a good reason, let’s see how I’m going to whip your little ass like the sack of rice you are!” The man’s glare of anger was directed at El, as he was the first to recognize the latter. His name was Sill, and he had ordinary curly short brown hair.

El suddenly appeared, making those harrowing footsteps in the empty alleyway, and finally revealed himself at the intersection. After gasping for air and clutching his chest, Sill immediately yelled at El, resentment dripping from his voice.

“Excuse me, I need to get through!” El stated, bowing slightly, feeling a twinge of sympathy for him. He wondered if the man had nearly had a heart attack from the earlier shock.

“Wait…” one of the men beside Sill spoke up. “Open your goddamn mask!!” he ordered.

“What is it?” Sill leaned closer, whispering to the second man, whose name was Nore. Nore had straight hair that reached his shoulders.

“Look at his clothes! They’re too clean. And look at his eyes!” Nore pointed at El’s attire.

“Hmmmm…” Sill contemplated, slowly grasping the implication.

“Ahh, you mean… You suspect a kid. This kid??? Coming from the upper side? The city?”

He wore a ridiculing smile as he continued, “Haaaa, you’re funny, bro! Why did I just realize this now? There’s no way a kid from the upper side would dare to come in here alone. Even getting close to the fences is something they’re afraid of. Their parents must tell all their kids each night for their ‘bedtime story’ that we’re actually demons… ghosts, or something that will eat them alive. I’m sure of it.” El could clearly feel the odd bitterness behind the Sill’s words.

Nore’s lips flattened upon hearing Sill’s reasoning, but his gaze remained fixed on El, dismissing Sill’s claims. “Open it!! Now!!!”

Not knowing what came over him at that moment, El decided to heed the man’s order.

He removed his hoodie and mask, revealing his face.

Clean and healthy skin—nothing like the supposed complexion shared by all the people living on the underside because of the toxic waters.

“See!!?” Nore exclaimed, raising his eyebrows.

“... Waa… what are you doing here? A kid from the city dares to come to this place? Have you lost your mind?” Sill’s bewilderment was evident on his face, and for some unknown reason, he licked his lips. El even saw his throat move up and down.

“What do we do with him?” another man asked from behind the two.

“Of course, we let him go… what else is there to it? Do you want to deal with the city’s guards? Hell no…” Sill shook his head.

“No, we bring him with us. From his looks alone, his family must be rich. One of us will be the good guy and report this to the city’s guard, while the rest of us will stay here watching over this kid. He’ll become our hostage from now on. We’ll ask his family for ransom,” Nore said, his expression harsh and unsmiling.

“Are you crazy?” Sill exclaimed loudly, his mouth wide open.

“No, I’m not,” replied Nore briefly.

“What if they come after our heads? They’ll shoot us dead. Do you think they won’t do that???” His face was etched with fear and distress.

“They won’t. If you don’t dare, leave, Sill. We can do it on our own. Remember, once we get the money, you won’t have any share,” pressed Nore, eyeing him from the corner of his eye.

The others behind the two quietly exchanged glances, neither denying nor arguing against the idea.

"... I… sigh. Alright then. I'm in. I hope there won't be anything wrong again this time," Sill relented, deciding to go ahead with the plan.

"Do not resist," Nore, who had initiated this whole scheme, approached El with a glare. As his hand reached out to grab El's shoulder, the latter instinctively dodged to the side.

"What are you doing? I just want to get through," El said, frowning.

"Don't fight back. Come with us!!!" Sill’s voice rising, trying to scare El.

"I don't want to…" El stepped back to create distance. ‘Why would I? Are you an idiot?’ he thought, contemplating whether he needed to fight back or make a quick escape.

"Wow, kid… You didn’t hear us before, did you? You are our hostage now, and you will remain so until we get the money from your parents! And we need a lot of that!!"

Sill replied, his voice laced with anger as he stepped closer to El, his eyes threatening to unleash the beast lurking within. Just as Sill reached out to grab El's shoulder, El instinctively punched his hand away, striking him right on the wrist.

*Bam!*

"Oucccchhhhh! What the freak..." Sill cried out in pain, grimacing as he clutched the spot where El had hit him.

El readied himself, his hands awkwardly positioned in front of his face.

He didn’t know how to fight; in fact, he had never been in a real-life fight before.

Yet, here he was. For whatever reason, he couldn’t explain, and he didn’t want to run away. This time, he would face it all.

As these people from the underside discussed their plans to kidnap him right in front of him, his heart began to race. It felt as if it was growing hotter—or perhaps colder.

He couldn’t quite articulate the sensation. It felt like his heart was beating hard for no reason, just from the anticipation of the fight he was about to engage in.

One thing was for sure, though: he was excited.

A strange thrill coursed through him, yet he remained acutely aware of why he was there. He wanted to reach the mayor's office to witness the execution and understand what had gone wrong with the restaurant that had led to such dire consequences.

"Get him!" shouted Nore, who had been silently observing Sill. He noticed Sill's hand was red and slightly swollen from El's earlier punch, making him wary.

The others from the underside approached El with malicious intent, deter

mined to hurt him. One man attempted to slap El's face hard, but El dodged just in time, narrowly avoiding the blow. Just as he had done with Sill, he retaliated—this time striking the man on the side of his elbow, which was still in the slapping motion.

*Bam*

"Arrgh!" the man cried out, stumbling to the side; grimacing against the wall while clutching his elbow.

The others, witnessing El’s uncanny skill, quickly adjusted their approach.

Their attacks intensified, transforming into a flurry of calculated punches and kicks.

Though they refrained from being excessively aggressive or lethal, their strikes carried undeniable force and precision.

This time, however, El found himself faltering.

The speed of their movements pressed against his limits, forcing him into an unrelenting defense. Each time he prepared to counterattack, another blow would come, and he’d be forced to dodge again.

Yet, amidst the chaos, his heart raced uncontrollably, the pulse of something dormant stirring deep within him, clawing its way to the surface.

From within his chest, faint bluish veins streaked with hints of purple began to emerge, spreading outward like creeping tendrils.

They climbed to the surface of his skin, weaving a strange, intricate pattern as the world around him slowed for just an instant.

The stillness was fleeting, but in that moment, El could see openings for counterstrikes against his opponents—yet he hesitated, too overwhelmed by the sensations flooding his senses to act.

Unbeknownst to El, those attacking him—including Sill, Nore, and the man he’d struck earlier—watched the fight unfold in stunned disbelief.

Their movements grew more desperate as they failed to land a single hit on El, their confidence waning with every missed blow.

“How is that even possible?!” Nore exclaimed, his voice breaking the brief silence that followed an especially close miss.

He had been certain his companion’s kick would connect, only for El to spin awkwardly out of the way at the last moment, pivoting on his feet with an almost unnatural agility.

The others shared his astonishment, pausing momentarily as their minds struggled to comprehend the boy’s impossible reflexes.

But their disbelief was short-lived.

Driven by frustration, they resumed their relentless assault, charging at him with renewed determination.

Yet El, caught in a trance-like state within his mind, continued to evade them effortlessly. In his altered perception, their movements seemed slow, predictable—as though choreographed just for him.

Unbeknownst to him, his actions grew increasingly fluid and precise, his movements almost instinctive.

Muscle memory from a life he didn’t remember guided him, lighting the way along a path he hadn’t realized he was walking. He wasn’t merely reacting—he was rediscovering something buried deep within, something that set him apart.

* * *