𝐌𝐋𝐁𝐁: 𝐀 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥

𝟭𝟯 - 𝘃𝗲𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗳𝘂𝗹

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️: strong language and sensitive topics are mentioned in this chapter! read at your own risk!

Granger's POV.

The street in the isolated town was empty.

He was all alone, walking under the sacred night accompanied by his gun and violin case, and the night by the sound of crickets and owls. He was in the darker and deeper side of Lumina City, a part of the city barely people knew of. It was a place he used to live when he was younger, which brought back hundreds of memories he didn't want to recall.

He thought about life. His miserable, pathetic life. The parents he barely had, a childhood that had been taken, then demons and orcs and devils of the abyss destroying his heart to the fullest. He hated them, hated them with all his guts. His life. His past. Himself, even, but fighting in this cruel, brutal world was all he could do to survive. A pathetic attempt, but at least it would do him good.

His destination was ahead; an old tavern filled with nasty drinks and even nastier citizens, where he spent most of his childhood beaten up by cruel men. Granger closed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows. Even just the sight of it made him sick, triggering his unwanted headache. Turned out, the bitter memory was still glued in the back of his skull, and he wanted it all to end permanently.

He breathed, preparing himself as he walked down the faintly steep path down to the tavern. As he entered it, he knew he would cringe at the situation, triggering his headache even more. He saw tens of people violently drinking, breaking bottles of red wine, and careless men gambling on their tables for the sake of wealth.

They all came to a sudden stop once he stepped in, but not a single fear was seen on their faces. Shame, he thought. They should fear me.

"Well, well," a man seethed. "The stupid orphan boy is back. Look how much you've grown, Granger." His voice was rough and deep. The man was bald-headed and had broad shoulders, tan-skinned with several gaps between his disgusting yellow teeth. Granger remembered him as a teenage boy, bullying him to the bones. Only now he was a grown man, and who knew what more terrible things he had done.

"You still have nothing better to do than drink and gamble, don't you, Vasily?" Granger scoffed.

"Nah," Vasily said, "I fuck women in brothels and pay them a quarter every damn day, saving my money for bottles of wine and get drunk every night, if that's what you're asking." His friends then exploded in hysterical laughter.

Granger winced at the proud satisfaction of Vasily's words. The fact that his motive was supported by more loathsome men truly disgusted him. But it didn't surprise him in any way. He always knew Vasily and his friends were nothing more than foolish little swines.

"Oi, orphan boy!" another man from the side called as he approached him. He was much younger, approximately Granger's age, but just as disgusting as Vasily. He wore a stained white top and ripped green trousers. "Such a man you've become, I see. Let's bet, eh? See how much fortune you bring for yourself today."

"I didn't come here to gamble, Edgar," Granger replied, trying to stay calm. "It's never my thing."

"Oh?" Edgar said. "Maybe you want a prostitute in your bed, eh? Fuck her good 'til her body goes weak, then pay her a quarter. That seems like a fun thing to do, ain't it?" A smirk was carved on his lips as more people burst out laughing. Lord.

"Neither," Granger answered sternly, but Edgar's smirk suddenly faded into a creepy frown. He pushed him towards the door, his nose wrinkled.

"Really? Then what are you doing here, rat?" Edgar shot back. Granger stood still, his eyes pinned on him. He had enough of showing his vulnerable self in front of them. Not anymore.