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... og rather than beating the collective crap out of us innocent fellows.

"I’m going to get my wounds treated. Can I?"

Celia blinked—just a little too long. For a moment, even she was stunned. But she caught herself fast, her voice crisp and composed.

"Yeah, sure. You can go."

Zyon gave her a small nod and turned, walking off like nothing had happened. No swagger. No dramatics. Just that eerie calm he always had.

Meanwhile, Art pushed himself up from the wrec ...

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Life from birth has been nothing but hell. I lost my parents to some stupid aristocrats whom they offended. Executed for no good reason.

My relatives abandoned me and pushed me aside. They feared for their lives and left me and my sister to starve and wander the streets alone!

No, this is worse than hell!

I watched my sister die of starvation. Her lips were dry and her feet bloody. Her nails were broken and her fingers riddled with cuts. She struggled in my hands and after a few seconds of struggle she passed away. She seemed joyful in death so I prayed mine will come just as swift and merciful as hers.

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Everyone said death is scary but I say it’s the end! Who needs life after death? What is the need for reincarnation?

Who would want to return to this crazy world?

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I could barely see or speak but how can I miss such a beautiful face? It was an extremely handsome man who gazed at me with tender eyes.

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“Haven’t I suffered enough? Can’t I just rest?” I cried out. Why would I want to stay back in such a cruel world?

“Don’t you want to avenge the death of your parents? Don’t you want to become something greater? I can make that happen!” The beautiful man said with an alluring voice.

“You… Who are you?” I asked with an anxious heart.

My parents always said God is the only one who cares about me! Maybe in my final hours, he has come to save me.

“Call me Death…”