Chapter 407 - I Am Me (1/2)
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”Stop right there!” A bellow of rage followed by heavy and varied footsteps resounded. A pair of armored men were running with their blades out, their body emanating vicious killing intent. If looks could kill, their gazes would be able to send the heaven's into death.
They dashed through a clustered alley, tumbling and pushing away obstacles with their powerful legs and arms, grunting here and there.
”I said stop, fiend!” The same voice resounded, originating from the taller man. Yet, his demand was only answered with a laugh.
”Hahaha! Old Man Bo, why must you be so persistent?” Said a young man dressed used clothes that had all sorts of patchwork done. His slim body and legs were swift, vaulting and flipping through the obstacles as if they were personally placed there by him. His agile movements were far too fast for the guards outfitted in armor.
He performed a front flip, his body displaying extreme balance. He landed on a piece of wood, his head turned back with a smile revealing his handsome face, bright eyes, and unbelievably white smile.
”When I get you! I'll!” He jumped at the boy, immediately closing the gap abruptly, his eyes filled with satisfaction. He had practiced a movement art for this exact moment, capable of giving him an abrupt and sudden burst. With this trump card, this demonic child will finally…
Bang!
His heavy legs stepped on a piece of wood, pushing it down, the other end sprung up suddenly, and then launched the boy into the air.
”Thanks for the lift!” With a sly smile, the young boy performed a somersault and grabbed a pole sticking from the wall. With a twist of his body and a spin, he shot higher until he grabbed the roof's edge. Pulling himself up, he disappeared from the armored guard's sight in a blink.
Old Man Bo's eyes widened in disbelief as he followed the elegant arc and excellent execution of athletics. The rage he felt in his heart was drowned in disbelief and a hint of praise.
The other armored guard stopped with heavy breathing, the sweat on his brows was dripping like rain. He looked upwards and cursed. This brought Old Man Bo's mind back to the present, his expression turned uglier than a pig crying. It was horrendous.
”Ahhh! I'll capture you one day, and when I do, it'll be your worst day!” He shouted to the skies.
From atop the roof, a voice replied with a hint of excitement, ”I'll be waiting and keeping my neck clean for you!”
This only infuriated the guards further as they once more gathered their strength and went to pursue. While they knew he'll have left the roof to locations unknown, they had to try.
The young man went through various routes until he completely left his pursuers into the abyss of loss. He arrived at an abandoned warehouse and said, ”I'm home!” He smiled brilliantly and stood at the entrance waiting for a reply, yet no voice was heard. After several seconds, he went in.
The warehouse was dirty and cluttered, filled with broken or spiderwebs. He went through this area until he went to a certain area. A broken door was laid horizontally with its back to the wall. He grabbed the edges and pulled, revealing a hole. Entering, he was welcomed by another sight.
A room about ten feet by ten feet, a perfect square space. There were several books and a white candle that was half used. A rectangular chest about three feet wide and a wooden chair.
”Home, sweet home.” His voice was low, a little despondent, yet still filled with that youthful vigor. Walking to the chest, he opened it. Inside the chest were silver coins with a few gold coins within it, enough to fill it halfway. He removed a drawstring leather pouch from his chest. With practiced motion, he opened and dumped out several silver coins.
”Today was a good day,” the young boy smiled. With a sigh, he grabbed a book and sat in the chair. He started to read, sounding out the words.
”Tda booy wyent to tda marqet…” it was a simple story about a boy living in a world and overcoming struggles of his life. At the end, he overcomes all challenges and ends up with a beauty and status worthy of respect. He came from nothing and rose to his position on cunning and intelligence. With his wit and character, he obtained respect and love. He was a protagonist worth rooting for, worth idolizing.
After an hour of self-taught reading, he placed the book down and took a deep breath to expel his mental exhaustion. ”A step at a time. A step at a time. Always forward, never stopping.” The young boy said these words as a mantra. They were thoroughly etched into his heart, unable to be forgotten at death.
He was sixteen years old this year. Since he could remember, he's been alone. He had no one and very little help. He survived thanks to an orphanage who found him on the street, naked and forgotten. This was until he became three. The orphanage was not a good place. They sold children to perverted patrons for money.
He escaped at that age when he became aware, aware that he was in danger of being next. Since then, he survived on his own guile and guts. Each meal was a struggle and each cold winter was deadly, but he persevered and persisted through it all.
He didn't have a name. He didn't have a family. With only himself, he fought for every scrap. He stole. He hid. He starved. But, he never surrendered.
Fate was cruel.
He calmly closed his eyes. ”All I have is this,” the young boy touched his chest. A necklace dangled a ring from his neck. It was black and unnoticeable, but he had always felt connected to it. As long as he remembered, this ring had never left him through it all. It was the only clue to his origins.
The coins in that chest was a chance. A chance he struggled for to cultivate and become someone with strength and ability to find out his origins, to ask the question to his parents: ”Why did you abandon me?”
Was it for his own good? Was it because they were poor? Was it because they were dead? He needed to know.