Elda Nehu
It' s almost dawn, but none of us have slept a wink because Big Sis Calika hasn' t come back yet.
I' m so worried, but maybe she' s on her way home now.
After working, she must be exhausted and starving.
In this cold winter, eating some hot mushroom broth to fill the stomach before bed is way better than sleeping on an empty one.
Once I made up my mind, I got up and grabbed an old wooden bucket. It has a hole in the middle, so we stuffed it with rags to make do.
"Be careful, don' t carry too much weight," Tiara said.
"Don' t worry, I won' t push myself. Big Sis Tiara, you should rest a bit. When you wake up, Calika will probably be back," I replied.
"I' m fine. Anyway…" Tiara trailed off. She didn' t finish her sentence, probably not wanting me to feel bad, so she swallowed her words.
Before leaving the house, I took some mud from the canal that Calika had dug up and stored. I mixed it with canal water to make it runny again.
Once it was ready, I smeared it on my face, hair, and body to look dirty and smell bad. Even though some slum dwellers are used to these smells, it' s still rancid mud. No one wants to touch it.
Then I grabbed the bucket and walked out into the darkness, with no lights—just the moonlight to make out houses or big piles of trash.
At this hour, close to dawn, the bad people who hunt at night start to sleep.
The slum is probably the safest it gets during this time.
But you can' t let your guard down. On my way, I tried to hide and avoid everyone I saw as much as I could.
In the slum, it' s best not to run into anyone. No one can be trusted except your own family—though that doesn' t apply to some families.
I learned this early on when we first came to live in the slum.
That day, Big Sis Tiara had gone out to work as an adventurer, like usual.
While Calika and I were walking home, a group of thug kids tricked us, saying a kind person was giving out food.
Instead, they took us to a place where they beat us up. Calika hugged me tightly to shield me from harm.
We were lucky Tiara came back in time to chase those kids off, but Calika was so battered she couldn' t get up for three days.
After that, we stopped trusting anyone in the slum.
When I reached the canal, I went to our usual spot—a gentle slope that' s easy for kids like me to climb up and down.
I dipped the bucket into the water, scooping just a little.
Too much would be too heavy for my body to handle.
As I turned to head back home, a sudden noise shot into the sky, followed by a blinding light that revealed everyone by the canal.
I was about to run when I saw a group of well-dressed people, unlike slum dwellers, standing not far away.
They looked like adventurers, probably here on some mission in the slum.
They covered their mouths with cloths and glared at me with disgust. No one dared come close, but they fanned out to block every path.
Should I dive into the canal to escape? But if I accidentally swallow even a drop of that water, I' m as good as dead.
At that moment, a polite-looking man, who seemed to be the group' s leader, stepped forward and knelt in front of me, keeping a distance of about two arm' s lengths.
"Do you know the house of the Nehu siblings?" he asked.
He smiled and spoke kindly, unlike anyone who' s ever talked to me.
So I smiled back and answered, "I know it very well."
*****
Tiara Nehu
All I can do is lie here, waiting for others to help me.
One of my hobbies is counting the time it takes for Elda or Calika to go out and come back home.
Normally, Elda should' ve already returned to refill the pot with water for the second time.
Something must' ve happened to her.
No. I only have the two of them left. I can' t lose anyone else.
Please, Goddess, let them both be safe.
Let all the danger fall on me instead. I beg you.
I rolled over and used my one remaining hand to drag myself out of the house.
Even though I' m terrified of strangers, those two mean more to me than anything.
But I hadn' t crawled far when a group of teens stumbled across me. One of them pointed at me and said something to his friends.
Then the whole group walked toward me, grinning in a way that made my skin crawl.
I tried to crawl back to the house, but I wasn' t fast enough. They surrounded me.
"I-I' m sorry. I' m just a cripple with a hideous face. I' m useless. Please let me go," I pleaded, tilting my head so they could see my disfigured face from past attacks.
"That voice! Found you at last, you crazy bitch!" one of them shouted.
"Huh!?"
"Don' t remember us, huh, you nutcase?"
Before I could respond, he stomped on my hand, twisting and grinding it under his foot.
"Argh! It hurts!" I screamed.
"You acted all tough back then. Now we' re gonna make you pay."
I remembered. These were the thug kids who tricked and beat up Calika and Elda.
"Too bad. I wanted to mess up the hand that swung that sword at me," he said, yanking my arm up.
"But whatever. Go for it, guys."
"No!"
His buddies raised wooden clubs and took turns smashing my arm with full force.
Crack!
"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
"Beat her down!"
Five of them attacked me with clubs, fists, and feet, hitting every part of my body.
Pain exploded everywhere—bruises, broken bones, blood.
I begged hoarsely for mercy.
"Please… stop… I' m begging you… it hurts…"
And I prayed Elda and Calika wouldn' t come back right now.
*****
Broff, Leader of the Thug Gang
"Hey, she' s gone quiet," one of my guys said after smashing a club into the back of her head, blood spraying out.
"Dead, probably," another said.
"Good riddance, you crazy bitch. Sticking your nose where it doesn' t belong. Let' s go ransack her house."
I spat on her and led my crew to tear apart their pathetic shack, ripping through every corner.
We smashed everything. Trash got tossed out.
We kept the herbs and mushrooms to split and eat.
Our experience taught us where slum rats hide their valuables.
It didn' t take long to find a small stash of coins buried under their bedding.
"Broke as hell. Not even 10 copper coins," I muttered.
Finding nothing else worth taking, we trashed the place and set it on fire.
We were gonna screw over their whole family anyway. No point leaving them a house.
The wooden shack caught fire fast. Soon, flames engulfed the whole thing.
We sat around the blaze, warming ourselves, roasting mushrooms, and eating without a care.
Waiting for her little sister to show up.
The sister who takes the hits to protect her younger sibling? We won' t kill her right away. We' ll tie her up at our hideout and use her as a weapons training dummy.
Trash like them just clutters the slum. Better to make them useful so we can get stronger and rank up.
Once we hit [Rank D] , we' ll take on dungeons.
As for the youngest one, if we clean her up and she looks decent, we' ll sell her to a brothel or the [Iron Chain] guild to fund gear.
While we waited, bored, one of my guys sparked a conversation.
"What do we do with the body?" he asked.
I glanced at the crazy bitch' s corpse, then at the others.
"Leave it. Her sister' ll deal with it."
"You forgetting we' re taking out her sister too?"
"Oh, right. Haha!"
"Dump it in the canal?"
"Too far. Who' s gonna drag it?"
"No way I' m touching it. She stinks like shit."
I stood up, grabbed her hair, and dragged her to the fire.
"Burn it, then."
"Good call. Keeps the fire going."
"Agreed!"
"Better than hauling it to the canal."
Unanimous. As I dragged her past the group, one guy piped up.
"Whoa! She' s not dead yet!"
I looked at her face. Her lips were moving—she was still alive.
I pinched my nose and leaned in to listen.
"Haha! She' s apologizing to us!"
Everyone burst out laughing.
I slapped her face a few times to snap her out of it.
"No need to apologize. You' re not forgiven."
Then I kicked her into the fire and sat back with my crew, watching her writhe and scream in the flames.
Some neighbors came by, joining us around the fire, watching her die without a hint of care.