153 Looks like Wesre Done (1/2)

5 men were gathered around the low light of a lamp in the underground cellar . .

”You think he'll pull through?”.

”Kid didn't look too bright to me . Whatever, he fails, we kill 'im . The end . ”.

”At any rate, tonight's the big night . It's almost time . Where'd Zack go?”.

”In 'is room . Stomach pains, he says . ”.

”The h.e.l.l? b.a.s.t.a.r.d's been acting strange lately . You don't think, he's leaking intel to those Royalists—”.

”Oi, it's time . ”.

Signalled one of them as the door to the cellar opened . .

.

In the dark, decrepit room, a single figure approached the five . .

The figure's ident.i.ty was slowly revealed as he approached the light . .

.

”You're alone . Where's the girl?”.

”Tsk . Didn't pull through after all . ”.

The men were badly disappointed . .

.

The black haired boy standing before these intimidating prisoners looked the definition of ordinary . .

His dark eyes were looking down, staring at the shadows extending across the floor . .

.

”Hey, you better not say you got cold feet . ”.

One of the men pulled out a knife . .

”Hey! Talk! Where's the princess!?”.

He threatened, holding the knife at the boy's throat . .

.

The boy began trembling like the weakling he was— or so the men had imagined . .

The boy didn't do that . He didn't shake, he didn't even move . He simply kept staring at the shadows below . .

.

”The princess, Clara…”.

He muttered softly . .

His voice wasn't loud but everyone could hear it clearly . .

”Isn't coming…”.

His eyes were yet glued to the floor . .

However, his lips held a tiny grin now . .

.

”The f.u.c.k are you talkin' about, huh!? Ya got cold feet and came here alone, that it!?”.

The boy was silent . .

”What now? We kill 'im?”.

”Gotta at least show him not to mess with us . ”.

”Yeah . We beat him up and try again . ”.

.

The men all stood up and surrounded the boy . .

”Messin' with us, eh dips.h.i.t?”.

The man who had the knife at the boy's neck grabbed a fistful of his hair with his other hand and pulled his face up . .

What the man saw there was the boy's eyes, pitch dark eyes lacking in emotion . .

”I don't like that look . ”.

.

Looking annoyed, the man grazed his knife along the boy's neck . .

A line of blood escaped the shallow cut . .

”I said, I don't like that look . ”.

But the boy didn't comply . He just kept staring blankly . .

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No, not quite . The small smile on the boy's lips had grown into a visible grin . .

.

”What're you laughin' at!!”.

The man smacked the boy's face with the b.u.t.t of his knife . .

But the boy's smile didn't falter, not in the least . .

”You don't seem to realize you're in deep s.h.i.t, brat . ”.

.

Another smack . .

Stronger this time . Enough to break the cheekbone, maybe even knock loose a tooth . .

Still no reaction from the boy . .

The boy simply kept on looking at the man with a grin across his face . .

.

”—!”.

”Oi, you goin' easy on 'im or what?”.

From the side, one of the man's comrades came up and punched the boy in the face . .