“Bite down on this piece of firewood. It'll help, I'm sorry. I - it was the only thing I could think of,” Thales said, frowning as he knelt in front of Ryan.

  The crippled beggar, half - lying against the wall on the ground, held up his right hand. Blood oozed sluggishly from the “coupled” wound, and he looked at Thales, who was sharpening his dagger on a rough stone. He let Thales stuff a piece of firewood into his mouth.

  Behind Thales, the girl, Kolya, sat stiffly on the steps between the yard and the house. The spot on the left side of her face, which had been burned by the silver coin, had been treated and medicated. At the moment, it was covered with a piece of cloth. And the charred silver coin was tightly clutched in her small hand.

  The girl stared wide - eyed, looking around restlessly. A moment later, she looked up at the moon and let out a nervous laugh.

  Behind her, Quaid's lifeless body slumped against the broken wall.

  A wave of nausea surged over Thales. That sensation, of digging metal into flesh and blood, kept flashing before his eyes as he held the dagger.

  Thales sighed, forcing down the discomfort of taking a life for the first time. The burns on his chest still ached, constantly distracting him.

  He had to kill Quaid, and Thales had no regrets about that. But after all, it was a life he had ended. No matter what Quaid had done, whether he deserved to die or not, in a sense, he was a fellow bipedal being, equal to Thales. And Thales himself had plunged the dagger into his neck.

  More importantly - Thales turned his head, looking towards Kolya, while the dagger in his hand was sharpened faster and faster.

  These children had, probably, experienced one of the most pivotal and traumatic scenes in their lives.

  Another unreal scene appeared before his eyes, the light of the projector and the text of the slides floating like a crashing wave.

  “... The literature review for the paper I am reporting on in this class today focuses on the field of psychology. From the perspective of developmental psychology, childhood and adolescence are the most critical periods for the formation of a person's mind and character. Bloom's follow - up studies have found that the environments, interactions, and behaviors experienced during this period are strongly correlated with future personality and psychological development. Many theoretical studies have also suggested that this influence may even be lifelong...”

  Thales nodded, tucking away another retrieved memory deep in his mind.

  The mental well - being of the beggars was a secondary concern for now. The immediate problem they had to solve was how to survive.

  Thales suppressed the nausea in his heart and focused on the dagger in his hand.

  The dagger was not quite as long as an adult's calf. One side was sharp, with a tiny curve at the tip that slanted towards the blade's edge. The wooden hilt was wrapped in a black leather and linen band to prevent it from slipping out of his hand, and the sides of the blade were smooth - hmm?

  Thales suddenly noticed that the letters “jc” were engraved on one side of the blade, washed in blood.

  jc? Thales' eyes slightly changed, and his heart skipped a beat.

  Oh, all the schemes, all the planning, all the cleverness, Thales thought. None of it was as useful as this “jc” dagger right now.

  Then, Thales' eyes turned cold, and the blade, which had been being polished just a moment ago, suddenly appeared by Ryan's severed hand!

  “Thud!”

  Thales sliced down without hesitation!

  The blade severed the last bit of flesh connecting Ryan's palm to his wrist.

  “Uhh! Hmm! -Hmmm!”

  Ryan's body spasmed violently, like a Yashir river shrimp that had been dropped into boiling water.

  He clenched his teeth on the firewood, stifling a terrifying sound from his throat. His eyes were squeezed shut in agony, his face twisted into an exaggerated shape, and tears and snot streamed down uncontrollably.

  Thales quickly grabbed strips of well - medicated (actually just some simple bandages) cloth and wrapped them around Ryan's severed hand, tying the knots tightly.

  Hopefully, this would work, stop the bleeding, and prevent infection. Otherwise - Thales looked at the fire and shook his head.

  Ryan was still twitching in pain, and Thales pressed his broken hand firmly with one hand and gathered him into his arms.

  “Hang in there, Ryan. It'll pass soon. Hang in there!” Thales whispered reassuringly, closing his eyes. His own chest burns were brushed by Ryan's hair, and another sharp pain shot through him.

  Thales looked to the other side, where Kellett, Ned, and Enthora were lying quietly in the moonlight.

  They looked as if they were asleep.

  Ryan's breathing gradually became regular, but Kolya began to whimper softly again.

  “Thales, oooh, I'm so scared. Kolya obviously doesn't have typhoid. Kolya's already better -”

  Thales put Ryan down and turned, taking Kolya in his arms. He carefully avoided the burns on her face and patted her gently.

  “It's okay, Kolya. It's all over now.”

  I'm sorry. I was the one who couldn't protect everyone.

  “Thales!”

  Thales opened his eyes and looked at Sinti, who had come running back, out of breath. He asked calmly, “How's it going out there?”

  Sinti was the least traumatized of the children in the sixth house. After Thales had helped him reconnect his dislocated leg (the beggars' experiences had given them some basic self - help knowledge, like setting bones - or breaking them), Thales had sent him outside to spy and spread the word, to give early warning if any members of the Brotherhood were approaching.

  “There's no one coming from up there. No Riker, no thugs, no one from the Brotherhood. It's as if no one outside the ruined house knows anything,” Sinti said. As the oldest and having had an unspoken understanding with Thales for a long time, he went straight to the part that Thales cared about the most.

  “Quaid seems to have visited quite a few houses. Some people managed to escape, but, not counting us and the seventeenth house, at least half a dozen houses are silent.”

  Thales' eyes dimmed. The sixth house was not the one closest to the gate in the ruined house area, and he could probably guess the fate of the beggars in those houses.

  “Now that the beggars know what's going on, everyone is spreading the word that the Brotherhood is going to get rid of us all. Some are hiding in their houses, too afraid to come out, but more are running out into the streets, and others are trying to escape.”

  Thales' eyes lit up. “Wait, you're saying the guards are gone?”

  Sinti knew what Thales was thinking. He shook his head and said bitterly, “It's no use. The gate was unlocked from the outside. Karak was screaming at the door with the people from their house, but no one came. We can't escape unless we can cross the trench and the spikes inside.”

  “Must we,” said Ryan, struggling to sit up from the ground, holding his right hand. His face was pale. “Must we escape? We can wait here until morning, until Rick and the others come, and tell them that Quaid went crazy on his own -”

  “No!” Thales cut Ryan off. “Quaid died in the ruined house. If they find the murderer, we're as good as dead. And even if they don't find the murderer, they'll take the beggars to account. What's more, Quaid's father was one of the bosses in the Brotherhood. They won't just let this go.”

  “And,” Thales said, looking coldly at Ryan, “do you still want to wait for them to send the next Quaid? Even if the next leader isn't someone like Quaid, when he realizes that his predecessor died at the hands of a beggar, do you still expect him to feed you well and then get on his knees and beg you not to kill him?”

  This string of words left Ryan, Kolya, and even Sinti a bit confused. The three blinked their eyes, looking uncertain.

  Thales looked at the eyes of the three, helplessly lowered his head, sighed, and said, “Ugh - Simply put, we have to run away, and that's that.”

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  “Oh.”

  The three children then nodded in unison as if they “suddenly understood”.

  Thales shook his head helplessly.

  Another scene suddenly appeared before his eyes.

  The snow - covered streets were deserted, and a slender figure skipped ahead of him while he muttered.

  “-So Weber, with his observations and historical summaries on the genesis of capitalism in Europe, makes a cynical remark in his book about the old horse's statement that the economic base determines the superstructure - ”

  “Although I don't understand what you're talking about, it sounds so profound.”

  “Ugh - to put it simply, it's Weber outsmarting Old Ma.”

  “Oh, that's right. Then let's go eat a hot pot!”

  “Obviously you're the one who asked me what class I took today. Can the topic not jump so suddenly? And why does it change so naturally, hey!”

  “Then it's decided. Korean barbecue! Strong Attack Freedom, charge!”

  “Wasn't it just a hot pot - - hey, don't push me - - and what's Strong Attack Freedom - - I said don't push me! --”

  Thales closed his eyes tightly, trying to dispel this memory that seemed to be emerging from the void.

  Recently, these flashbacks had been happening more and more frequently, and the “past” was returning bit by bit.

  But not now. Not now. There were more important things to do now.

  Thales opened his eyes and realized that all three children were waiting for his decision.

  He stood up gently, pulling Ryan up as well, and took a deep breath.

  “First, when no one is outside, we move Quaid out of the sixth house. He's heavy, but in the short term, no one can know that we had anything to do with his death.”

  “Then, Sinti, you go among the group and secretly spread a message - be really careful, so no one knows you're doing it on purpose. Tell them that under the trench to the left of the fourth house, there are five spikes that are loose. Remove them and cover the two remaining spikes with slabs of stone or something, and you can escape from the ruined house.”

  Sinti was startled. “You, you found the secret passage in that deep trench?”

  “Secret passage?” Ryan and Kolya also looked surprised.

  Thales didn't say anything. He just patted Sinti's shoulder. “Go ahead.”

  It wasn't a secret passage dug by some magical beggar elder.

  The so - called secret passage was secretly dug by himself. Using the excuse that he went to the West City Gate twice a week to beg and could return at night, he had spent four years gathering daggers, vines, linen, and corrosives from the apothecary store.

  It was like the “Shawshank Redemption” in the world of Errol.

  As for the legend, it was just wishful thinking. There never was a savior, was there?

  Thales patted Sinti's shoulder again. The latter nodded and was about to turn around, but then he scratched his head, thought of something, and spoke in confusion:

  “Why do we have to tell everyone? Can't we escape on our own? The more people there are, the more of a rush there'll be, and the slower we'll escape.”

  No, Thales thought to himself. The Brotherhood wasn't a pushover. Every street, every road, every corner in the three districts of the lower city had their informants, and the outskirts of the West Gate were also full of their lackeys. For a few beggars less than ten years old, even if they escaped from the abandoned house, it would be hard to get away from the Brotherhood.

  In Thales' original escape plan, it would take another half a year. He would be able to fully figure out the pattern and rhythm of the Brotherhood's informant placement between the third district of the lower city and Red Square Street, and then prepare supplies from the Sunset Bar and the Grove Apothecary. Then the possibility of their escape would increase greatly.

  As long as they could escape to Red Square Street.

  But now, this was not the best time at all.

  But in order to survive, they had to escape again - accidents always came out of the blue, didn't they?

  So he had to turn the Sixth House's private escape into a collective commotion of beggars.

  If only the sixth house was missing, it would be too obvious, and the Brotherhood would soon come looking for them. Secondly, although the more people there were, the slower they would flee, it also made them safer and more inconspicuous.

  But to explain all these reasons one by one -

  Thales tilted his head to look at Sinti. His piercing eyes made the latter a little uncomfortable.

  “Sinti, do you remember what we both, four years ago, agreed to?”

  Sinti froze and lowered his head, thinking briefly.

  When he looked up, his eyes had become determined.

  “Of course.” Sinti looked at Thales, at the boy who was a head shorter than himself, and said slowly, “You do the thinking, I'll do the doing.”

  Thales nodded solemnly.

  “We, together, will escape!”

  ————————————————————

  Yara Sariton watched with boredom as the last customer left the Sunset Bar, then lazily got up and put away her glass.

  There weren't many drinkers today, especially not the Brotherhood's own men. Many of them had been transferred to the “big operation”, and even Edmund, the cook, had gone off with a machete, supposedly to pay off a favor.

  The old man hasn't been back for a while.

  Boring.

  Yara glanced at the clock on the wall. 3:30 a.m., a bit early.

  Yet that clock was also a bit slow.

  That clock was old, Yara thought to herself. Even the back slot that held the everlasting oil was rusty, and the rust mixing into the everlasting oil greatly reduced its efficiency.

  Something would have to be done to get the old guy to shell out some money and get a new clock.

  The Sunset Bar did so much business. There was no tax collector from City Hall to collect taxes (“For the king's sake, I'd give him two middle fingers!” --Yara), and no unsavory characters to ask for protection money (“How about a hundred coppers each, and I'll protect your fingers from me chopping them off?” --Yara). Even the goods came from the Black Street Brotherhood's own channels at a discounted price (“Nal Rick, you're in charge of the books. Talk to these brothers on the ground and to my knives too, and tell me what price to give me when I buy goods?” --Yara). It should be okay to put up a little money for a clock in the bar, right?

  That stingy old man.

  Closing the door and finishing up at the bar, Yara left her apron and rag behind, tightened her short leather pants, put out the indestructible light at the front counter (it was ironic that she'd picked that name), and walked into the back kitchen.

  It was a bit early in the day, and as per the old rule, if she did her workout, there was still -

  The next moment, Yara's face turned cold and fierce!

  Her body instantly crouched low, her knees bent to a position that allowed for maximum power. The wolf - legged blade on her leg, known on Black Street, instantly came to her left hand.

  The blade flew out like a bolt of lightning!

  “Dang!”

  The Wolf Leg Knife viciously stuck into a wine barrel!

  Only a small half of the blade was exposed, and the handle was still trembling.

  “Ah!” It was the terrified scream of a little girl.

  Yara slowly straightened up, sheathed the other wolf - legged knife in her right hand back into her boot, and then lit the indestructible lamp at her side.

  The light illuminated the dimly lit back kitchen, and several small figures were revealed.

  “Yara - - that - -” Thales, the traveler who had been startled by the wolf - legged knife, forced a smile, raised his slightly trembling right hand, and shook it awkwardly. “Hi - it's me.”

  Yara looked at him coldly, not saying a word.

  Her eyes were sharp and intimidating, and Kolya shrank closer to Thales in fear.

  Yara suddenly stood up straight.

  Thales felt the three beggars behind him take an involuntary step back.

  “I know,” Yara said coldly, “or I'd be aiming for something more than a keg.”

  Yara walked up to him and pulled her wolf - legged knife from the cask, which was two inches from Thales' left ear. She demonstrated by waving the knife in front of him, as if to show him what could have happened, before slipping it into her boot holster.

  “And, you little brat -”

  Thales mentally rolled his eyes and instinctively raised his hand quickly to protect his forehead.

  But a slender finger had already poked him hard!

  “Ah..! Ouch!”

  “Call me - sister Yara!”

  ——————————————————————————

  “I didn't see Edmund when I came in through the back door, so I thought I'd come and look in the back kitchen--”

  They were now in the cellar of the Sunset Bar, and the three beggars, with the exception of Thales, were fidgeting, leaning against the sacks that held their food, nibbling hard but hard at the white bread in their hands-they hadn't had such good food in a long time.

  A little away from them, Thales sat on a barrel twice his height, staring flatly ahead at the languid but sultry Yara Sariton with her arms clasped over her chest and one leg against the wall.

  In a previous life, Thales would probably have had to hold an admiring gaze, seeing her in detail from head to toe, and then look up at the sky, marveling at the beauty of the world as he reminisced.

  Huh? What would Thales do after that, you ask? Nonsense, go home and do what he had to do, of course.

  As for now - sorry, this body is still young.

  “Straight up, why did you come to me.” Yara still had that cold demeanor, opening the door and getting straight to the point.

  But Thales had gotten used to it, ever since he'd first met the then 16 or 17 year old “big sister” four years ago in the trash behind the Sunset Bar, she'd always had the same tone and style.

  He knew that's how she was.

  “Quaid went crazy and he killed almost half of the beggars in the junkyard.”

  Thales said with a grimace, while silently clenching his fists.

  He-fucking-it.

  Yara had a vague suspicion about what had happened earlier today from the moment she saw the bruised and battered beggars.

  Yala's face didn't move, but in her heart, she began to curse Rick, this bookkeeper, I knew you didn't have good intentions when you filled Quaid with Chaka wine.

  Why did I agree to him for those ten gold coins? Ten gold coins, ten gold coins!

  Ten gold coins for something that's sure to offend the Brotherhood - he should have been charged at least twenty!

  And--

  “There's no one coming to stop him or save us, we'll just have to escape on our own.” Thales said in a grim mood, as the scene from a few hours ago seemed to reappear.

  --And, alas, half a beggar.

  Yara closed her eyes and sighed.

  “I know, you guys can hide here for a day. Don't worry, that gorilla won't dare to come with me around, and if he does, I'll chop off that - ahem - his hand underneath him.”

  Yara glanced at the other three beggars and frowned, recognizing which were fresh wounds, especially the child whose right hand was wrapped in cloth.

  “When Edmund gets back, I'll have him go to Riker and the people up there. He can't get away with what Quaid did - the guy, why didn't he die sooner.”

  A little disinterested, Yara lowered her legs against the wall and stood up.

  Thales' eyes darkened as he looked at the three beggars, letting out a deep breath before looking over at Yara.

  “The Brotherhood had a big mission today, that's why the guards and patrols were lax, I guess. For you guys to have escaped, you must have- ugh, never mind, I'll get the medicine, and if I need a doctor too- wait, kiddo, what's wrong with you?”

  Yara was talking to herself when she suddenly realized that something wasn't quite right with Thales on the opposite side of the room, his body was also covered in bruises, the clothes on his chest were torn to pieces, and his right sleeve was even splattered with blood.

  No, the look in this brat's eyes-

  Yara suddenly walked up to Thales and dragged him off the keg, then squatted down, holding Thales' shoulders with both hands and looking him straight in the eyes.

  Yara's eyes suddenly became serious and urgent.

  “Kid - you, did you?”

  Thales was a little afraid to look Yara in the eyes, but in just a few seconds he adjusted himself and then looked up with determination.

  Thales heard his own voice ring out calmly as usual, without a tremor.

  “Yara, Quaid was slaughtered by me.”