Chapter 233 - Token Of Gratitude

The warm evening sun had halfway set over the horizon, casting a proper golden hue over the courtyard of the church orphanage.

Inside the main lobby, a large group of young orphans sat clustered around a recording tag sitting on a wooden side table. The voice of the commentator, Ken, boomed through the device with his signature dramatic flair.

["LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! IF PRINCESS KIANA SECURES A VICTORY IN THIS NEXT MATCH AGAINST MYRIA’S LAST STANDING REPRESENTATIVE, LIANG WEI, THE ELDORIA WILL OFFICIALLY CLAIM VICTORY IN TODAY’S GAUNTLET!"]

"Go Princess Kiana!"

"Beat him up! Beat up Lang Wee!"

"It’s Liang Wei, doofus!"

Meanwhile, out by the open front gates of the orphanage, the atmosphere was considerably calmer and more heartfelt.

Kurt stood on the cobblestone path beside Maggie, Tristan, and Rupee.

Maggie wiped her eyes with her apron, stepping forward with a grateful bow. "Kurt... I truly don’t know how to properly thank you for everything you’ve done today. Bringing Rupee back safely... resolving this terrible misunderstanding... I am forever in your debt."

"No problem at all. Just doing what any decent person would do. As always, take good care of them."

"I will," she promised softly, stepping back to let the kids say their piece.

Tristan stepped forward first, puffing out his chest as he tried hard to act like a cool young man despite his puffy eyes. He looked up at Kurt with a smile and extended a right fist.

"T-Thanks, Uncle Kurt. I-I know we haven’t officially started yet, but I’ve been keeping up with my training every day. Next time you come visit, I’ll be twice as strong."

With respect in his eye, Kurt reached out and bumped his fist against Tristan’s tiny one. "That’s what I like to hear, little man. Sorry I haven’t been training with you, but I promise to find the time. Keep practicing and protect your sister."

"T-Thank you! And I will!"

Lastly, Kurt turned his attention to Rupee, who was standing beside her brother.

"Will you be alright now, Rupee?"

"Yes!" She answered happily,

Her bright blue eyes shined clear without a single trace of the dread that had consumed her earlier. "I’m going to be just fine, Uncle Kurt!"

"Awesome. And no more causing trouble for the nice parents who come by to visit the orphanage, understand?"

"Hehehe! I won’t! I promise! With Tristan’s help, I’m even going to write a sorry letter and apologise to the nice people I shouted at yesterday."

Kurt reached out and gently rubbed the top of her head. "Good girl. I’m proud of you."

Rupee’s cheeks flushed a sweet, rosy-red as she giggled, putting both of her small hands over her head where he had touched.

She looked up at him with a warm expression and called, "Uncle Kurt, kneel down lower!"

"Hm? Like this?"

As he kneeled down, Rupee leaned forward and planted a small kiss right on his cheek. She pulled back with a triumphant grin, "One day, when I grow up, I’m going to become your family for real!"

"Pffft–hahaha! Is that so? Well, you’ve got a long way to go until then."

He stood back up to his full height and offered them one final wave. "Take care, everyone. I’ll drop by again soon. Rupee, I’ll bring over that new friend for you I was talking about."

"Okay! Goodbye, Uncle Kurt!"

"G-Goodbye, Uncle Kurt!"

With their energetic farewells echoing behind him, Kurt turned and walked out through the iron gates.

........

The main road of the city’s central district was bustling with lively energy. Colorfully lit lanterns illuminated the streets in beautiful colors and shops were bustling with tourists.

Kurt walked down the sidewalk with an extra pep in his step. The guilt that had plagued his chest for weeks was gone, replaced by a peaceful sense of freedom.

As he walked, his hand idly brushed against his pocket. He then remembered the subtle interaction he had shared with Reuben right before they parted ways.

’That’s right... didn’t he slip something into my pocket?’

He reached in and pulled out a small, flat item. It was a plaster printed with a bright red rose pattern.

"What in the world...? Why would he give this to me? Is this some sort of noble code I don’t know about? Is he worried about me getting hurt or something?"

Shaking his head with a dry laugh, he slipped the plaster back into his pocket and kept walking down the avenue, looking around for a carriage that could take him back toward the academy.

As he approached a quieter intersection near the edge of the market district, a sudden movement down a dark side alley caught his eye.

He stopped in his tracks.

A few dozen yards away, three drunk-looking men had cornered a young woman against the brick wall of a narrow alleyway. The men were physically crowding her, using their bodies to force her further into the dark shadows away from the main road.

The woman looked visibly uncomfortable, with her hands pressed against her chest as she tried to back away while looking around.

Kurt took a brief glance around the street. Tourists were strolling by vendors were shouting their prices, and carriage wheels were clattering against the stone – nobody else had noticed what just happened.

’Great.Now I stand at a classic crossroad. Option 1: I could butt in and play the hero. Or option 2: I could just mind my own business and walk away.’

He stood there for a long three seconds, weighing his options.

"Haaaa, yeah, right. Like my conscious would ever let me sleep tonight if I walked away. Besides, if I did ignore her, that’ll just ruin my good mood. Time to insert myself into the situation."

He stepped off the brightly lit main street, slipping quietly into the shadows of the narrow alleyway.

As he drew closer, the foul stench of cheap booze drifted through the air.

Through the gloom, Kurt watched as one of the drunken men violently reached out, ripping the top of the woman’s dress. The woman let out a muffled gasp, trying to bolt past them toward the street, but the second man grabbed her arm and shoved her roughly to the ground, where she huddled against the dirty wall as the three men laughed cruelly.

’Yep. Definitely not consensual.’

Yet, even as his blood began to boil, a strange, lingering chill prickled at the back of his neck.

A subtle alarm bell rang faintly in his mind. Something about this entire setup felt... bizarrely off. It felt unnaturally staged, like watching an overly rehearsed play.

He shook the weird feeling off as the three drunkards began unzipping their trousers with sickening grins.

"Okaaay! I don’t need to see that! Pull up the zippers, fellas! Fun time’s over." Kurt called out as he stepped out the shadows.

The three men snapped their heads toward the entrance of the alley. "Who the fuck are you?!"

Kurt put his hands on his hips, widening his eye and pulling a completely unhinged, crazy face. "I’m the boogeyman! And I’m coming to get ya... Ok. That was cringe."

The three drunkards sneered, infuriated by his ridiculous taunt. "Ruined our fun, you one-eyed bastard!"

One man lunged forward with a wild swing of a punch.

Kurt casually sidestepped the wild lunge, extending his leg in an effortless sweep.

The man’s own momentum carried him forward, tripping hard over his boot and skidding face-first straight into a filthy puddle.

SPLASH!

The second thug charged in next, reaching out with both hands to grab his collar.

Kurt caught the man’s fingers and bent them back just enough to force the thug’s joints to crack.

"Gaaaah!!!" The second man dropped straight to his knees. Before he could recover, Kurt threw a jab straight into the man’s nose.

THWACK!

The impact sent the man rolling backward over the damp cobblestones, clutching his bloody face and wailing in pain.

The third thug tried to sneak up behind Kurt, pulling a rusty iron shank from his belt.

Without even turning his head to look back, he drove his elbow backward with expert precision, landing a brutal strike straight into the man’s solar plexus.

"OFFH!!" The thug gasped as all the air was knocked from his lungs.

Kurt followed up with a subtle heeltap to the man’s ankle, knocking his feet out from under him and sending him flat onto his back.

Suddenly, the first two men scrambled back to their feet, roaring in drunken rage as they charged at him simultaneously from opposite sides.

Kurt stood perfectly still until the very last second – then dropped into a low crouch.

WHACK!

The two drunken thugs missed him entirely, punching each other’s faces instead. They both wobbled on their feet for half a second, eyes rolling back, before collapsing into a dazed, unmoving heap on the ground.

The third man, clutching his stomach, lunged forward with one last desperate attempt.

Kurt easily grabbed the man by his waistband, spun him around 180 degrees, and shoved him into a low-hanging clothesline of wet laundry; and proceeded to wrap him up like a giant, soggy burrito.

THWACK!

He delivered one final, solid punch straight to the man’s jaw, knocking him out.

Within less than two minutes, all three drunken attackers were out cold on the ground and wet laundry.

Flexing his fingers while exhaling softly, Kurt turned casually toward the frightened woman huddled against the brick wall.

"You alright? They won’t be bothering you anymore."

He looked down, noticing a scrape on her knee from when she had been shoved down. "Ah, that’s gotta sting a bit."

That’s when he noticed something else, the woman was looking up at him... but her expression wasn’t one of relief. Her wide eyes were locked onto his face with an intense stare.

She wasn’t looking at him in relief or shock for what had just happened.

She was just staring.

That strange, prickling chill flared once more. His instincts screamed at him that something about this woman was terrifyingly wrong.

’Yeah... time for me to get the hell out of here.’

Before he left, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the rose-printed plaster Reuben had given him, gently placing the bandage over the scrape on her knee.

"Here you go. That way the blood won’t spill. Now mosey on out of here before these idiots wake up. Head straight to the nearest Prefect station to report this, ok? Stay safe."

Without waiting for a response, Kurt quickly strode out of the alleyway.

"Wait..." The woman reached out a trembling, delicate hand toward his retreating back.

She watched until his silhouette turned the corner, disappearing out of sight.

"......"

After waiting for a few moments, her wide eyes narrowed and her lips pulled back into a sinister, psychotic grin that stretched from ear to ear.

"Hehehe..."

A soft, eerie chuckle bubbled up from her throat, slowly escalating into a hysterical fit of laughter.

She stood up smoothly, dusting off her torn dress as if it were nothing. Reaching into the folds of her skirt, she then pulled out a jagged, pitch-black dagger.

As she turned around, her glowing, manic eyes locked onto the three unconscious men groaning in the ground and laundry.

"I’m so, so sorry, boys~" she cooed in a sweet, sickly tone, walking over to the first unconscious thug.

"I really am sorry I couldn’t let you three touch me... even after you paid me all that coin..."

She raised the black dagger, her smile widening into a terrifying split.

"But I really, really wanted to see Kurt in action~"

SHACK! SLICE! PLUNGE!

"HEHEHEHE! AHAHAHAHA!"

Without a shred of hesitation or mercy, she casually executed all three men right where they lay.

Her maniacal laughter reverberated against the brick walls as wild slashes to the throat and heart cut off their groans, pouring crimson blood across the alley dirt.

Once the alley fell silent, she lowered her dagger and gently reached down to trace her slender fingers against the rose plaster stuck to her bloody knee.

Her eyes flickered with an unholy, obsessive glow.

She brought her black dagger up to her mouth, slowly licking the fresh blood off the blade and fixed her gaze on the direction Kurt had walked away.

"Kurt Rossana... The Brotherhood was wrong about you. Instead, you really are as wonderful as I thought you’d be... I can’t wait to see you again~"