Chapter 25 : Something I Left Behind

To dare steal from a poor blind man—unforgivable.

This one had clearly crossed the line.

I closed my eyes and studied the thief’s expression through my senses as he writhed and screamed, pinned by my grip. His face was twisted in agony, collapsed to the floor.

Subtle changes in expression were hard to read, but a mask of pain—that much was obvious even to my perception.

Truth be told, I had known he would try something.

The moment I sat down, his table had gone suspiciously quiet.

And still, I let it play out.

I even allowed his hand to reach for my chest pocket.

If I stopped him too soon, he might whine that he was innocent.

“Gyaaaaahhh!”

I asked the shrieking thief, “Not feeling wronged anymore, are you?”

“Ghhk—!”

“Good. That’s better. No one should be wronged.”

Scrape! Chairs pushed back in his direction.

“You bastard!”

His comrades leapt up like righteous heroes unwilling to let their brother suffer.

Why do these scoundrels always pretend to be men of justice?

The pickpocket howled, while I debated what to do.

Should I let him go? Had the world’s blind forgiven him yet?

‘If I were truly blind, would I forgive him for this?’

A good blind man might. But I was no good man.

People don’t change so easily. A cracked wrist bone wasn’t going to give him a life-altering revelation. And his other hand was still fine. If I released him now, he’d only go steal from another blind man.

Still, in honor of the “good blind men’s” vote, I decided to give him one last chance.

“Pickpocket. Say you’re sorry. Swear you’ll never again steal from the blind.”

Tears streamed down his face, but his glare brimmed with killing intent.

“Kh… what the hell are you babbling about, you crazy bastard!”

Then he shouted at his allies, “What are you standing around for? Kill him! Kill that bastard!”

“…Hmph.”

I pictured all the blind of the world shaking their heads in unison.

“…Pity.”

I flung my half-full beer mug, infused with inner strength, at the charging thug. Then I grabbed the pickpocket’s other arm.

“Huh?”

His eyes went wide with confusion.

“Never mock the blind again.”

I crushed both wrists at once.

Crunch!

“Gyaaaaahhh!”

He fainted, sobbing snot and tears.

“Kill him!”

Another thug drew a dagger and charged.

I seized the sword I’d leaned against the table, let my arm dangle low as if helpless, and waited.

At the last moment, I swung the sheathed blade upward.

Thwack!

“Urgh!?”

He collapsed, clutching his groin, whimpering.

“…ahhh… nghhh…”

A bigger brute roared, flipping the table onto me in a show of brute strength.

I tumbled back beneath it, pinned like a feeble blind man, “Ouch, crushed to death!”

Shing!

He raised his blade high, “Die!”

Thud!

I rolled, dodging the strike, and came face-to-foot with his stinking toes.

“Ugh, what’s that smell?”

I smashed his ankle with a fist.

Crack!

“Arghhh!”

He shrieked like a maiden and fell.

I crawled out from under the table, leaning on my “cane.”

“Ah, poor blind man, nearly squashed.”

I tapped my way forward, pretending to search, “Who dares overturn a blind man’s dinner table? Where are you, eh?”

Thud, thud.

The brute with the broken foot tried to crawl away, covering his mouth to keep quiet.

Thud, thud.

My cane prodded something soft.

I smiled, “Ah, found you.”

“Aaaaagh!”

He shrieked, trying to wriggle away.

“Stay still.”

Whack!

“Ughk!”

I smacked his back, flipped him over with a kick, and searched with my “cane” for his face.

“P-please…”

“Be quiet. Unless you want something else broken.”

“Mmff!”

I jammed the cane against his mouth. His muffled sobs might have been laughter if I truly were blind.

I planted both feet by his ribs, bent my knees, and hefted the sheathed blade like a bat.

Then swung hard.

Crack!

The blow caught his jaw clean. He fell limp.

I nodded with satisfaction, “Nice shot.”

In my mind’s eye, the entire Blind Association rose in ovation, applauding.

One with broken arms, one with broken foot, one with… something else broken, and one knocked out by a flying mug.

Four bodies lay strewn across the floor.

“Kids these days…” I clicked my tongue, rifling through their pockets.

Old pickpocket instincts hadn’t left me—my hands slipped quickly and cleanly.

About twenty silvers total.

I called the innkeeper, who’d been watching from afar, “Innkeeper.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

I handed him the lot, “One night’s stay, hot water for a bath. The rest, use to pay for damages.”

“Th-thank you.”

I tilted my head. Too quiet.

Looking around, I found the other diners frozen, staring at me like statues.

I nearly asked, ‘What are you looking at? Got a problem?’ but that felt too much like a thug, so I swallowed it down.

Ignoring them, I groped my way to a seat and sat, “Innkeeper. When’s my food?”

“It’s coming soon. Want another beer while you wait?”

“Sure. Bring it.”

“Yes, right away.”

I sipped at the new mug and waited quietly.

Slowly, the patrons turned back to their own meals, conversation and laughter filling the hall once again.

Somewhere, chuckling echoed. I looked around, then realized it came from inside my head.

‘What’s so funny, Master?’

The Heavenly Demon muttered, still laughing:

[It’s been ages since I saw someone beat people in such… creative ways.]

‘Ages, huh? So someone like me existed in your world too?’

[Of course. There was one we called the Mad Demon.]

‘…That name doesn’t sound flattering.’

[Demon, Mad Demon—what’s the difference?]

‘True enough.’

With nothing left to say, I quietly sipped my beer, waiting for the food.

By then, the sun had fully set, and night blanketed the city.

My sister never came.

She must have been busy.

“To think she’d wander about until late at night while her poor, blind brother sits here alone. Such an unfilial girl.”

After a hot bath, I sat cross-legged in my room, practicing breathing techniques.

Perhaps because I had slept so well the night before, drowsiness wouldn’t come.

As Shushruta had warned, this place was enemy territory, so sinking into a deep circulation cycle was too dangerous. Instead, I quietly gathered the ambient qi around me, storing it little by little in my dantian.

“…”

But the results were disappointing.

Back in the forest near the Mist Cliff, qi had poured down on me like a torrential rainstorm. Now, it was no more than drifting snowflakes.

I should have grabbed a few elixirs on the way, I thought with regret.

Even after some time, sleep refused to come, and so I finally left the room and stepped into the moonlit street.

At this late hour, the roads were empty.

I lifted the blindfold slightly and walked.

This city was not unlike those I had known before. On the surface, it shone with splendor and light. But the brighter the light, the darker the shadows. And in those shadows, back alleys always festered.

Like a salmon returning to its birthplace, my feet carried me there naturally.

Without meaning to, I found myself deep in the alleys of Scarab City.

The air smelled foul, as it always did here, damp with rot and grime.

That stench dragged me back into old memories.

I had been an orphan.

They said my parents were killed by bandits while trying to protect me.

My earliest memories were hazy, but the first clear one was of running for my life after stealing bread.

As if to prove the point, a small boy dashed past me now, clutching a loaf, only to be caught and beaten by the shopkeeper. Yet even as he was struck, he never let go, shoving half of it into his mouth between blows.

I chuckled at the sight. The boy glanced at me and then disappeared into the shadows.

“…I must be getting old. Drowning in nostalgia like this.”

I was still musing when I heard dull thuds echoing from somewhere ahead.

For no real reason—perhaps boredom, perhaps insomnia—I followed the sound.

The alley was darker than the rest, the moonlight shut out. At the far end, where a faint beam reached, several hulking men were mercilessly kicking a boy.

Nearby, other children huddled together, trembling as they watched.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

“You little shit, you think we’re a joke? That we’re easy to mess with?”

“You knew today was the deadline for your dues, didn’t you, you blind-eyed brat?”

“At least show some effort, bring us something. But nothing? You mocking us? Huh? Is that it?”

“Don’t disrespect us. It hurts our feelings.”

The boy being beaten curled his body to minimize the damage, shielding vital areas while presenting less vulnerable ones.

Hm. A veteran. He had practice taking hits.

One of the trembling children whispered timidly, “P-please… stop. You’ll k-kill him at this rate.”

A thug turned, eyes flashing, “Oh? You want some too?”

Whack!

The child was kicked aside with a scream.

That was when the boy on the ground suddenly sprang up.

“Wha—?”

“What the—?!”

The thugs stumbled, startled, some even toppling over as the boy shoved them aside and lunged toward the fallen girl.

“Evelyn!”

Oh. Same name as my sister. What a coincidence.

The men, stung by humiliation at being shoved back, grew even more brutal.

“You little bastard…”

“Two pathetic cripples daring to act up together.”

“So you still have fight left in you? Fine. Tonight we finish this.”

Thud! Thud! Thud!

The kicks rained down harder.

The girl clung to her brother, wide-eyed, “B-brother…”

“Stay still.”

His voice was steady, strong. Not once did he cry out in pain.

Even beaten, his gaze gleamed like that of a young wolf.

I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I burst out laughing.

“Pff… Puhaha… hahahaha…”

The men froze, looking my way.

The alley was so dark they hadn’t noticed me until now.

“Who the hell’s that?”

I calmed my laughter and answered, “Just a wanderer out for a midnight stroll.”

“This fucker’s insane. You enjoying the show?”

“Quite. A pack of grown men ganging up on kids? Ah, brings back memories. Mind if I join in? I can take a beating pretty well myself.”

The men sneered, “Definitely insane. If you don’t want to die, piss off.”

“Mm. Thanks for the advice.”

I nodded, ready to leave, when the girl looked at me with desperate eyes.

“P-please h-help—”

Smack!

A slap cut her plea short.

“This stuttering bitch…”

“Evelyn!”

Her brother shielded her again, and the men resumed their stomping.

Life was the same everywhere, it seemed.

“Hahaha…”

I chuckled and walked on, reaching the alley’s end.

But then I stopped.

From the shadows, one child sat curled, staring at me with bloodshot eyes full of hatred.

I grinned, “I get it, kid. You can stop glaring.”

He slipped away into the darkness.

I turned back into the alley, cleared my throat, and announced myself.

“Ahem.”

“What the hell, why’re you back?”

“You really want to die, bastard?”

I scratched my neck awkwardly, “No, nothing like that. I just… left something behind.”

The men frowned, squinting at the shadows where I stood.

“…Left what?”

I thought for a moment, then grinned wide.

“Not sure myself.”

(End of Chapter)

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