Chapter 37: Twelve Years Ago [II]

The new boy couldn’t have been much older than Darius, but unlike the filthy buildings surrounding them, the newcomer looked completely out of place. His clothes were clean and expensive. His blond hair was neatly combed, and his posture was perfectly straight. Most unsettling of all was the expression on his face. He wasn’t frightened or nervous despite having just witnessed them roughing someone up.

He simply stood there, staring at them with a chilling, cold detachment that felt deeply unnatural on someone so young.

And the look in his eyes was dark enough to make the leader of the bullies hesitate, his throat tightening as a sudden, unexplained wave of unease rippled through the group.

The leader frowned and forced his chin up to mask his sudden nerves. He scowled at the newcomer and demanded,

"Who the hell are you?"

The blond boy didn’t answer, and that only made the leader more irritated.

"I asked you a question, you little dimwit." He took a step forward, narrowing his eyes. "What are you doing in this part of town?"

His gaze swept over the newcomer’s spotless clothes and polished shoes.

"You don’t look like you belong around here."

The blond boy didn’t so much as flinch at the bigger boy’s question.

​A low groan broke the tension as Darius pushed himself upright against the wall, one hand pressed to his aching side. His scraped palms burned, his scalp still throbbed where chunks of hair had been yanked, and his cheek stung from the slap. Tears blurred his vision, but he still found himself staring at the strange newcomer.

​The blond boy’s attention shifted immediately. For the first time since appearing at the mouth of the alley, he moved, his head tilting slightly. His gaze settled on Darius, but his expressionless face remained unchanged.

​The bigger boy’s face darkened. "I’m talking to you, tight pants. Are you deaf or something? Didn’t your mother teach you to answer when an elder is talking to you?"

The blond boy slowly turned his head, fixing the leader with a flat, icy stare. The sheer coldness in those eyes made the bigger boy instinctively take a step back. "What the hell is his problem?" he muttered, swallowing hard.

​One of the boys behind him suddenly squinted. "Wait... I think he’s one of the kids that came with those charity people this morning."

The leader glanced back, then returned his focus to the blond, eyes narrowed. Now that he looked closer, it made sense. The boy looked too neat to belong in this area, and he didn’t seem lost, either. His gaze traveled slowly from the blond boy’s expensive clothing down to his spotless shoes before returning to his face. A greedy grin spread across his lips as he realized they might have just landed an even bigger payday.

​"Well, look at that." He folded his arms. "So you’re one of those rich charity brats. You got any more money left to give out? I wouldn’t mind taking a little donation from you, too."

"Give him back his money," the blond boy finally said, his voice flat and dangerously calm, utterly devoid of fear.

The leader blinked. "What?"

"I said, give him back his money."

The bigger boy barked out a laugh, his friends immediately joining in like hyenas catching the scent of fresh meat. After a moment, the leader cut his laughter short, his grin twisting into a sneer. "And if I don’t?"

"Well, I’ll just have to beat it out of you," the blond boy replied with a shrug, completely unbothered. "Now give him back that money while I’m asking nicely."

The bigger boy’s face darkened. His fists clenched at his sides until his knuckles turned white. "I’ve met boys like you before," he spat. "Rich little brats who don’t know their place because they’ve spent their whole lives being pampered and protected."

His lip curled. "After we’re done with you today, you’ll learn exactly how the world works. Out here, nobody cares who your parents are or how much money they have."

A cruel grin spread across his face.

"Although..." His eyes swept over the blond boy from head to toe. "We might care about how much money you’re carrying right now. You’d better pray you’ve got enough on you."

He jabbed a finger toward the blond boy.

"Get him, boys!" he shouted.

The three boys charged first, eager to overwhelm him through sheer numbers. The blond boy calmly stepped forward, then moved with a speed none of them expected. One boy barely had time to throw a punch before a sharp strike caught him in the stomach, folding him in half with a wheeze. The second lunged from the side, only to be sent sprawling across the ground after a brutal shove and a sweep of his legs.

The third lasted only a few seconds longer before a clean punch snapped his head sideways and dropped him onto his backside. The alley erupted into cries of pain and panic as the boys scrambled backward, staring at the blond boy as though they were looking at a demon in broad daylight. The leader swore and rushed in, but the outcome was no different. The blond boy sidestepped the leader’s wild swing and drove an elbow into his ribs, hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs. One of his friends tried to grab him from behind, only to be thrown over a shoulder and slammed into the dirt with a painful grunt. Within moments, all four boys were groaning on the ground. The leader staggered to his feet first, clutching his side and staring at the blond boy with naked fear.

The blond boy extended his hand, palm up, his voice ice cold. "The money."

The leader didn’t need to be asked twice. He scrambled frantically into his pocket, dragged out the crumpled bills, and slapped them into the open palm without a second thought.

Without another word, the leader turned and bolted. The others didn’t need any further encouragement. They scrambled after him, limping and stumbling over one another in their desperation to escape. Soon, their retreating footsteps faded into the distance, leaving only silence behind.

The blond boy approached, his green eyes locked on Darius. Instinctively, Darius pressed himself flat against the brick wall, scrambling backward until he ran out of space and had nowhere left to retreat.

The blond boy stopped a few feet away and held out the bills. "Here. Take it."

Darius hesitated, his hands shaking as he accepted the crumpled money and clutched it tightly against his chest.

"T-thanks," he muttered.

"You’re welcome," the blond boy said. A soft smile suddenly broke across his face. The warmth of it transformed him entirely, casting a stunning, radiant light over his sharp features. "What’s your name? I’m Basil."

Darius swallowed hard and wiped the grime from his cheek with the back of his sleeve.

"I’m Darius."

"Nice to meet you, Darius," Basil replied, his smile widening slightly. Then he tilted his head. "Mind if I walk you back to the orphanage?"