Chapter 51: Black Fangs Shelter (4)

Perhaps, there is some hidden power in the Emperor’s Might.

Like a power that incredibly boosts the persuasiveness of one’s words when talking to comrades.

If not, there’s no explanation for it.

‘Everyone just follows me so well.’

I said, “Let’s go save people in the name of Black Fangs.”

No one asked me why.

Not a single person questioned why we were using the name of Black Fangs.

They just nodded with looks that said, ‘It’s about time.’

‘Really, I am lucky to have such loyal comrades.’

So many comrades who follow me no matter what I say. Rarely does anyone have as much luck with people as I do.

Thinking that, I smiled contentedly and turned to check on the children.

“Is everyone keeping up?”

A sharp response echoed back.

A quick headcount confirmed everyone was present.

We had to take a rough path to avoid being noticed, but fortunately, no one had fallen behind.

The kids seemed lively, even in this steep mountain climb, a testament to their training.

Everyone, except for Miss Rubia who was working hard at the mansion, was marching under my command.

Seeing dozens of people following me brought a fresh wave of emotions.

Especially because of our attire.

Our black robes had somehow become our uniforms.

On top of that, we received extra disguising masks from Asher when he generously opened his warehouse to us.

A group wearing animal masks and black hoods, a mysterious sight.

It was the perfect image of Black Fangs.

In fact, we might even look more like Black Fangs than the real ones.

Besides, the task at hand was to divert attention from Miss Rubia by attacking the Empire and the Holy Church with propaganda videos.

We were opposing the two enemies of Black Fangs.

‘I should really get a bow from the actual leader of Black Fangs.’

It all just happened to fall into place, but in the end, I was the most fervent supporter of Black Fangs.

Helping out so much, yet never seeing the face of the leader made me feel they were quite stingy.

‘At this rate, the least they could do is treat me to a meal.’

With such trivial thoughts, I knelt down and placed my hands on the ground.

Spreading my mana widely, ever wider.

Topography.

Trees and bushes.

The forms of animals living there.

All of it entered my mind.

And as I spread my energy further...

I started to feel it.

All kinds of trash and debris, shabby houses made of planks, corpses scattered in corners, and people ignoring them.

‘Found it.’

The slums.

Our destination was just ahead.

A natural smile spread across my lips.

It was time to operate the shelter in the name of Black Fangs.

*****

“That little shit...”

A man, his face twisted in a furious scowl, looked down at the girl.

Thick, dark red drops of liquid fell from his clenched fist to the ground.

It was the blood the girl had coughed up when he hit her earlier.

Yet, even in this situation, no one paid attention to either the girl or the man.

People only glanced momentarily before hastening their steps with expressionless faces.

It wasn’t unusual.

This was the slums.

No one cared about others here.

Anyone who did wouldn’t survive long.

Everyone was too busy trying to keep themselves alive to care about anyone else.

This was a common sight.

A pickpocket girl caught in the act and beaten mercilessly.

It was practically routine here.

The man, his face livid with anger, punched her face, kicked her in the stomach, and crushed her arms as she lay on the ground.

Terrible pain coursed through her.

But the girl made no sound.

She had been through this before and knew that staying silent increased her chances of the beating ending sooner.

“What kind of freak doesn’t even make a sound?” the man spat out, annoyed, and finally walked away, spitting on the ground.

Perhaps her lack of reaction unsettled him.

And so, she survived another day.

Her whole body ached. Moving brought waves of agony. But the girl ignored it and got to her feet.

She staggered down the street.

A battered girl walking alone.

Naturally, no one cast a sympathetic glance her way. No one cared.

“If anyone needs help, we are always here to...”

Strangely enough, today there seemed to be more suspicious figures around.

Several children in black robes were wandering about, speaking nonsense.

They offered to treat the sick for free,

to give away food for free.

But the girl was not foolish enough to fall for such tricks.

This was the slums.

A place where one could only survive by taking from others.

In a place like this, saying you’re here to help or asking people to reach out if they need assistance—no one truly means that.

The girl carefully made her way home, avoiding their attention.

A dilapidated shack on the verge of collapse.

As she stepped inside, she saw her mother.

“I’m back.”

She announced.

But there was no greeting in return.

There couldn’t be.

Late-stage mana poisoning.

Her mother could no longer move her body properly.

Two months ago, she lost the ability to walk.

A month ago, she could no longer speak.

The disease had even affected her mind.

No matter what the girl asked, her mother only responded with silence.

“Mom, I’m really struggling.”

But there was no kind, comforting response like there used to be.

Just a vacant stare from what was now no different from a corpse, something she could hardly call her mother anymore.

“I... I’m really, really struggling.”

Her vision blurred.

She felt tears running down her cheeks.

Until now, she had managed.

No matter how miserable life was, she believed they could get through it together.

But... no matter how hard she tried, life didn’t improve.

It only kept getting worse.

Her mother had contracted the illness while mining mana stones without protective gear to support the girl.

The disease only worsened.

It was overwhelming to take care of her mother and shoulder the burden of both their lives alone.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had a proper meal.

Her body was broken, but she had to struggle on to survive another day.

It was painful.

So very painful.

And there was no one to lean on.

“I’m sorry. I must be a really bad daughter.”

The girl’s voice trembled as she spoke.

She had always depended on her mother, pestering her with childish complaints.

And now, when she needed to take responsibility for her mother, she found it unbearable.

Disgustingly so.

She couldn’t stop these thoughts.

“It’s too hard.

It feels like dying would be easier.”

“I’m sorry... I’m sorry...”

With those words, she pulled a shard of glass from her pocket.

She couldn’t live like her mother.

She couldn’t be as strong as her mother, who had raised her child in this wretched slum.

Her whole body still ached.

Her left arm, crushed by that man, wouldn’t move properly.

She couldn’t endure any longer.

So...

“Forgive me. Please...”

She said, looking into her mother’s eyes.

Ironically.

Even without words, those eyes always weakened her resolve.

A vain hope that everything might get better, that they could find happiness someday, washed over her.

So, time and time again.

Even though she tried to end her life, she couldn’t.

But now... she couldn’t go on any longer.

Life was only suffering.

No matter how hard she tried, things never improved.

So, even though it was selfish.

Even though she knew she shouldn’t.

She couldn’t stop thinking about escaping.

Just as she was about to cut her wrist.

“...I’m glad I followed you.”

A voice rang out.

Someone swiftly snatched the glass shard from her hand.

In front of her... stood the boy she had seen earlier.

A white-haired boy in a black robe.

Behind his wolf mask, she could see his blue eyes.

“I guess you didn’t hear me earlier. Do you need help?”

The mysterious boy extended his hand to her, as she sat on the ground, tears streaming down her face.

And, as if it were the most natural thing, he added that he would help her whether she liked it or not.

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