Chapter 34: The Unquenched Ember (4)
The first emotion Zephyr and Lawson felt upon regaining consciousness was confusion.
“Mmmph!”
“Ughh!”
It wasn’t easy to feel anything other than bewilderment when gagged and bound tightly with ropes, their hands and feet immobilized.
“Ughhh!”
Their eyes darted around as they took in their surroundings. Frail-looking boys of small stature bustled through a vast indoor space. It was the hotel interior. They recognized the scenery from their previous visit when making a deal with Philip.
Memories slowly resurfaced. They had charged at the hunter with pipes and wooden planks to smash his skull, and then…
The hunter swung his fist.
I can’t remember what happened after that.
They’d lost consciousness. A shiver crawled down their spines. Merely recalling the memory resurrected the unbearable pain of that moment. They never wanted to experience it again—the sensation of collapsing at death’s doorstep, gasping for breath.
The relief of not seeing the hunter before them was short-lived. Their thoughts immediately veered to the next concern.
“Mmmph!”
“Ugh! Ugh!”
Gagged and bound like prisoners? Had they lost the war? They’d outnumbered the enemy nearly two to one! How could they have lost, even against the hunter’s strength?
Their unease deepened when they realized they were the only captives in the hotel.
Did those brats abandon us and run…?
“You look like you’re wondering if your underlings ditched you,” a voice remarked from above.
They jerked their heads up to find Philip standing with a notebook.
“Ughhh!”
“Ugh! Ughhh! Ugh! Ugh!”
Their struggles intensified. If translated:
You cocky runt. Untie us now or I’ll kill you!
Since when do you look down on us? You couldn’t even meet our eyes before!
Philip flinched briefly but smirked upon confirming their bindings held firm.
“They did abandon you. Ran off the moment we lost, didn’t even glance back.”
In truth, Zephyr and Lawson’s gangs had been unable to retrieve their leaders because Ray had been standing right beside the fallen duo during the retreat.
No need to mention that, though.
Even without that factor, their gangs’ loyalty had never been strong—hierarchies here were built solely on brute force. Underlings had no reason to risk their lives for leaders.
“Ugh!”
“Ughhh! Ugh!”
Their protests changed nothing. Philip savored the irony—the same Zephyr and Lawson who’d once dominated him in business dealings now lay helpless at his feet.
Ray said I’d see returns on my investment today.
Philip pressed a finger to his lips, exhilarated. This partnership with Ray already felt rewarding, and it was only the beginning.
I can’t let this slip away.
Swelling with awe and excitement, he vowed to work harder to stay in Ray’s favor.
Looking down at the bound leaders, Philip adopted a grave tone.
“Ray will decide your fate. Wait quietly until he wakes.”
At Ray’s name, their struggles ceased instantly.
The boy lifted his head.
Before him stretched an endless grassland dotted with low and high hills, all rendered in monochrome. Yet he felt no dissonance.
…….
A hazy lethargy enveloped him, like floating in warm, deep waters. Am I dreaming? He rarely dreamed.
The bridge kids often chattered about morning dream fragments, but he’d never related. To him, dreams were foreign—his mind filled only with the day’s tasks upon waking.
…….
He walked forward. Whether this was a dream mattered little. A hill at the grassland’s center pulled him inexplicably.
No sound accompanied his footsteps—no rustling clothes, no breath. A vacuum.
As he walked, hills under his gaze morphed into scrap-metal piles eerily familiar to him. Reaching the center, he stared up at what was now the tallest heap. At its peak floated a fist-sized sphere of light.
…….
A strong pulse throbbed in his chest. Though the light appeared white in this grayscale world, he knew its true color was white.
With practiced ease, he climbed the grotesque, reality-defying heap. No missteps. Reaching the top, junk clattered beneath him. The pile now towered impossibly high, the ground invisible below.
The sphere swayed, beckoning. Mesmerized, he reached out—
Crack—!
The sphere split like an egg, releasing hundreds of colorful light strands that raced across the landscape. As color flooded the world, the boy awoke.
Ray opened his eyes.
He sat up slowly in Philip’s office. The kids must have carried him here after he collapsed from exhaustion.
Did I dream something?
He frowned, the memory elusive. Concluding it was his imagination, he dismissed it—he wasn’t one to dream. Unaware that all humans dream nightly, remembering only fragments.
How long was I out?
He recalled raising his arms in victory post-battle, then nothing. Had anything gone wrong while he was unconscious? The quiet outside suggested not.
Creaking the door open, he found the doormen bowing deeply.
“Mr. Ray! Did you rest well?”
“We kept everyone away!”
Their deference had intensified since his first visit.
“Where’s Philip?”
“Fetching him now!” one said, darting off.
The remaining doorman pleaded, “Are you hungry? We’ll prepare food immediately!”
Ray studied the boy’s emotions—vivid crimson tinged with purple: longing, admiration, gratitude. Rare in the slums.
Since arriving in Sector 49, I’ve encountered more emotions than in Sector 50.
Understandable. The past ten days here had been a relentless storm compared to his former life.
His stomach growled, but priorities came first.
“Later. What’s the date and time?”
“July 11th, 6:23 PM!”
A full day since the battle. His fatigue had vanished.
Instead of waiting, Ray headed to the hotel’s bustling center. Lights hung from laundry lines cast an orange glow as kids weaved through beds and furniture.
“Cobson and Nepherge start at Sixth Street tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah! Good timing—they were idle.”
Sixth Street—formerly Cedric’s territory—already had job placements thanks to Philip. New bunk beds housed Cedric’s gang, though they seemed uneasy in their former victims’ space.
Philip prepared everything already. His efficiency was astounding.
“Just move this? Need more help?”
“Use us! We’re strong! Not bragging, though!”
Cedric’s members approached hotel kids, their mana tinged indigo-gray.
Guilt, Ray mouthed silently.
The hotel kids, initially wary, cautiously accepted help. Others followed, emboldened.
“Thanks.”
“Relief! Was stuck on how to move this.”
Ray watched as guilt and wariness between the groups intertwined like clashing tides, slowly neutralizing.
“Huh?”
A kid spotted Ray and shrieked, “The Hunter’s awake!”
The crowd froze, then swarmed him, carefully maintaining distance despite their frenzy.
“Hunter! You’re the best!”
“That fight was epic! We won because of you!”
Cedric’s gang joined the human barricade around him.
“Ray! You’re our leader now!”
Chants of “Ray! Ray! Ray!” shook the hotel. Boys of all builds and factions shared identical emotions—intense admiration and longing.
“Mr. Ray! Just say the word—we’ll steal anything!”
“Can I give the Hunter chocolate?”
“What’s your shoe size?”
“Underwear size?!”
The barrage of glowing emotions made Ray’s head spin.
Too loud. Maybe toss food to distract them?
As he considered it—
“AAAAAHHHH!!”
A scream tore through the air, rapidly approaching.
