Chapter 62
Chapter 62
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Using Others' Things as My Own (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Among them, these two were particularly vile, bullying only children like Jack. Not just petty slaps, but they also secretly stole the kids' money.
"Hehe, big brothers. How have you been?"
Jack retreated a step with a servile smile, careful not to make any coin jingle.
"Did you hear something wrong? How could someone like me have that much money...?"
"Hey now."
Tom cut him off abruptly.
"You little punk, trying to fool us?"
Jerry bared his teeth and growled.
"Shut up and hand over that pouch."
He tapped his waist and held out his hand. A vicious mace dangled menacingly from his belt.
"......"
Jack bit his lip as he stared at the mace. He'd seen countless kids with bruised and swollen eyes from getting hit with it.
"Big brothers, please......"
"You little shit!"
Jerry bellowed and strode forward. He was the hot-tempered one who always took the lead.
"Hey, hey, take it easy."
Tom didn't bother stopping him; instead, he casually clasped his hands behind his back and followed.
"You need a beating to come to your senses, huh?"
"Listen to the big brothers."
In an instant, Jack was surrounded by the two men. The already dim alley now felt pitch black as night.
"Ha, but......"
"This punk really!"
Finally, Jerry's arm swung high into the air.
"Ugh."
Jack gritted his teeth and huddled his body, bracing for the blow and holding his breath.
"......?"
Nothing happened.
"Huh?"
Jack lowered his arms in confusion, which had been shielding his face. He noticed the two men staring intently behind him.
'What is it?'
He turned around as well.
"-!"
Jack's mouth fell open.
A man in a familiar black hood stood at the alley entrance.
"What are you staring at? Keep moving."
"If you don't wanna see something nasty, get lost."
Jerry and Tom snarled viciously, jerking their chins.
Most people would cower and scurry off at those words. But the hooded man acted like he hadn't heard, slowly walking toward them step by step.
"Is this guy nuts?"
Jerry muttered in disbelief.
"Tsk."
Tom clicked his tongue and reached for his waist. His hand slyly gripped his favorite weapon, the blackjack.
The approaching man stopped behind Jack, now facing Tom and Jerry with the boy in between.
'Ugh.'
Jack grimaced inwardly.
'Is that smell...?'
There were plenty of people wearing hoods that color, but no one else reeked like this guy.
'No way? Is it really that guy from earlier?'
Piercing eyes gleamed from the hood's shadow. Stabbed by them, Jack meekly lowered his head.
'......I'm screwed. Today's luck is totally shot.'
The man standing before him was undoubtedly the one whose money pouch he'd stolen.
'Why is he here?'
The man slightly turned his body to face Tom and Jerry.
"You got business with this kid?"
A young man's voice flowed from within the hood.
"If not, scram. Even if you do, scram."
It was an incredibly arrogant, commanding tone.
"Man, I've seen it all now."
Jerry snorted and drew his mace from his waistband.
"Brother, looks like we gotta beat some sense into him."
"Yeah, you're right."
Tom agreed, gripping the blackjack at his waist.
"Time to spice things up."
They closed in from both sides to prevent the man from escaping, narrowing the distance stealthily.
Having worked together for years, their encirclement had no gaps. They were masters of street brawls.
However.
"Haa."
The man let out a deep, bored sigh.
"Why is it you guys never listen to words?"
"Shut up!"
Enraged, Jerry charged.
Whoosh!
Jerry's mace whistled threateningly as it smashed toward the man's face.
Jack squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to see the man's head flatten like dough.
Boom!
The expected impact rang out,
"Gahk!"
Followed by an unexpected scream.
'Huh? That voice...?'
Jack cracked his eyes open.
Jerry's face was smashed like dough. The thing that had done it was the man's iron-hard fist.
"You shut your mouth."
The man sneered infuriatingly.
Drip.
Blood began pouring from Jerry's flattened nose.
"U, ugh."
Jerry's eyes rolled back as he staggered. His brain must have been rattled; he couldn't keep his balance.
Thud!
The impact was so severe that Jerry used his mace like a cane, planting it on the ground. Instinctively, his other hand went to his head.
"Dizzy?"
The man's mockery sliced the air, and his hand shot out faster.
Crack!
The man seized Jerry's hand.
"Urk?!"
The moment Jerry flinched to a halt,
Crunch!
"Arrrgh!"
Jerry's hand crumpled like paper. White bones jutted out like shards from the mangled knuckles.
"Ar, arrrghhh!"
Jerry clutched his ruined hand and collapsed, rolling on the ground.
"Aaagh, aaah! My hand!"
He screamed in agony, writhing desperately.
"Jerry!"
Shocked, Tom rushed to him and scooped up the fallen man.
"Hand, your hand......!"
Jerry groaned, clutching his wrist tightly.
"Y-you, your hand......"
Tom's eyes shook wildly.
Just seconds ago, that hand had been tossing money at the gambling table, toying with women, gripping a weapon.
Veins pulsing vividly, muscles flexing and relaxing—that hand.
Now it was pathetically crushed, every bone visible, as if mocking how it even existed.
"Ugh......"
Jerry bit his lip until it bled.
His fist was already a bloody mess, unrecognizable.
No, it wasn't a fist anymore. Just a lump of meat that had once been a hand.
"What kind of strength......"
Tom muttered in horror.
He'd never imagined a man could crush a fist with one hand. But today, he'd have to change that view.
The hooded man possessed monstrous grip strength. And in a voice utterly unlike a monster's, he murmured softly.
"So who told you to lay hands?"
His casual tone didn't match the situation at all—like a kid who'd caused a huge mess and now mumbled sheepishly.
Jack stared at the man in a daze.
'What just happened?'
Jerry, who'd tormented him so viciously, was rolling on the ground. And the man's hand had only moved twice.
"This bastard dares!"
For Tom, the fury over his years-long companion getting hurt outweighed any fear of the man.
"Jerry!"
"Die!"
Roaring in rage, he lunged at the man.
Whoosh!
Tom's blackjack traced a menacing arc.
The man simply sidestepped it effortlessly. Then he grabbed Tom and slammed him into the wall.
Boom!
"Guhk!"
Tom's eyes bulged. The back of his head screamed in dizzying pain from the impact.
In that moment of loosened grip, the man seized his other hand and twisted.
"Grk!"
Tom couldn't resist and dropped the blackjack. Just before it hit the ground, the man's hand snatched it.
"This weapon's best used like this."
An oddly excited voice emerged,
Thwack!
And the blackjack struck Tom right there.
"......!"
Tom's eyes bulged even wider. His face forgot even the pain in his skull.
"......"
He panted shallowly, trembling hands clutching that spot. It was pure instinct, no consciousness involved.
Thud.
Tom's knees hit the ground. He just twitched quietly, face planted on the floor.
"......"
A chilling, eerie silence fell. Every man there—except the hooded one—forgot to breathe.
'Oh my god......'
Jack shuddered at the man's brutality.
Not that he pitied Tom. But seeing that state made his own groin feel uncomfortably cold.
Tom lay motionless now, like he was dead. The twitching had stopped; he must have passed out.
"Y-you crazy bastard......"
Jerry, barely regaining his senses, stammered. He glanced at Tom with utter disbelief.
"What, want me to hit you too?"
The man chuckled and twirled the blackjack. As it whirred in circles, Jerry's body trembled.
"Should've just listened. I can beat both sides."
"That guy's not human......"
Jerry backed away, face pale as if about to faint. His hand instinctively shielded that spot.
"Urk."
Forgotten pain flared up, twisting his face. The subsided rage reignited.
"You bastard! You messed with the wrong guy!"
Jerry bellowed in fury.
"You know who's behind us?"
Jack snapped alert.
Tom and Jerry. The reason they strutted through this alley.
They belonged to the Mare Guild, the most powerful in the capital—no, the entire country.
Well, technically, they handled the guild's dirty backroom jobs. But young Jack didn't know that.
He just knew they name-dropped the Mare Guild constantly, and that it wielded immense power.
Even a grubby street kid like him knew the weight of that name.
Let alone that man, surely......
"What do I care."
A nonchalant voice drifted from the hood's shadow.
"So, they're gonna save you now?"
"You crazy fuck......"
Jerry spat curses through gritted teeth.
"You'll regret......"
"Nah, whatever."
The man irritably raised one hand. An ingrained, arrogant gesture.
"Stop being annoying and get lost. Be grateful I'm full."
He said something bizarre, then added,
"The kid stays."
The moment the man finished, Jack froze in place.
'......I'm fucked.'
If he could, he'd bolt. The blackjack dangling menacingly from the man's fingers made him want to even more.
"......"
Jerry snorted, unmoving. His bloodshot eyes blazed at the hooded man.
Jack had never seen Jerry with such wrathful eyes. The intent to kill was crystal clear.
It was spine-chilling rage, pure murderous intent—enough to make one's eyes avert instinctively.
"Haha."
The man laughed casually, unaffected. And in the next instant,
"Eyes down."
His voice flipped 180 degrees.
Dry and brittle like autumn leaves scattered on the road, a cold command devoid of any warmth.
"-!"
The blood drained from Jerry's face.