A long road with barely enough space for two people to walk side by side. The sun above was covered by a thick dark smoke of industrial waste, leaving minimum light to see what was ahead. There, three people were walking, leaving behind the noises of cogs grinding on each other and pumping machines.

A messy hair man with a wing-shaped pendant on his neck and, unusual, thin-curved sword on his waist, Selv, led the way.

Behind him, walking side by side, were a man with a military uniform and a boy with a lump of metal on his back.

Machinery sounds grew distant, replaced with the sound of low sound of iron striking against something. Amidst it, if one put his mind to hearing, they could the sound of dripping oil somewhere, which was the source of the peculiar smell of this place.

Here, we could see the place of those who had reached the peak of their life and was left behind the merciless stream of time. Industrial Lower District, was the name. Or people would call it, industrial slum.

“What is the plan?” Gilbert asked, observing a building which seemed to be a warehouse.

Selv stopped his legs.

“Simple. I’m thinking of asking people to find out their hideout. Once we do, although the clear plan is yet, we will raid it and neutralized them.”

Despite using a neutral word of neutralize, Selv had no intention of leaving them alive since this was his responsibility as the Guardian. He will only spare them momentarily to squeeze information, then he was done with them.

Cruel as it might be, he accepted it since it was his responsibility.

“Simple indeed,” Gilbert said, looking around once more. “If we can find someone that is.”

Looked left, an empty building. Looked right, yet another husk. The same was also for back and front. Used can on the ground signed that people used to be here, but they were nowhere to be found.

Selv tilted his head.

“Strange. There’s supposed to be quite an amount of people I the lower district. Why can’t I even see one person?”

Seeing Selv who was honestly clueless, Gilbert gave him the answer.

“It’s because the little pride they still have. No children want to show their pathetic side to their parents once they reached adulthood. After all, they are no longer children.”

Selv sighed.

“If they’re thinking about me, they should stop. Taking care of children is a parents’ job. Age does not matter,” Selv said, scratching his head. It still felt itchy for him to act as a father despite doing it longer than anyone. “To a parent, their child is forever a child.”

“That’s quite a self-centered way of thinking.”

“That’s just how parents are.”

Selv shrugged. He was about to end the topic when he remembered.

“What about you? You are also a parent. Do you think the same?”

Caught by surprise, Gilbert’s face strained ever so slightly. He made an unnatural gap between the conversation before replied.

“Who knows? Perhaps.”

He looked the other way around, ending it ambiguously.

For him to say something ambiguous. It must be something he really did not want to talk about. Selv decided not to pursue further. He put his mind back to the main problem.

“Selv. What. Do.?” Scond asked with a light, cheerful tone, unsuited for the gloomy place. Thinking had never been his task. So, he only asked and had it easy at times like this.

“Let’s see…” Selv put his hand to his chin. While rubbing it, he was thinking of a plan.

Catching someone was the best option, but I can’t force someone unwillingly. Selfish as it may sound, I also want to respect their decision. Hmm. Selv racked his brain for an optimal yet compromising solution.

“We should separate and look for information of their hideout,” Gilbert suggested.

Selv had thought about it too. True, it was a possible move and would be better for them to do so. It was because they stood out in more than one way. Just think a scene where a normal looking man leading a military and a child with a huge weapon. Even without knowing who they were, they bounded to stick like a sore thumb.

Still, the number one problem was their well-known identities. Putting it into a familiar term, the three were like the General of the land forces, General of the Navy, and General of the Armies.

Outside or somewhere in the future where everything seemed meaningless aside, this was the independent town. Even a child knew who they were.

“But, I don’t think its wise to divide our force now. Who knows when they would ambush us?” Selv argued. His left hand was standby the sheath.

“That’s awfully caution of you.”

“Why wouldn’t I? They were skillful enough to put up a fight with you.”

Even a hero would die from a stab in his sleep. Not being caution was strange if one did not want to die.

But, Gilbert’s words had a point. Selv was tenser than usual. That could be seen from his stance which enables him to strike wherever enemy comes. If it was the usual him, he would still keep his guard up but with enough room to relax.

Selv was worried. He could feel the uneasiness in his chest grew bigger each second. It told him not to make any mistake, or else…

“Actually, I’m more worried about you two,” Selv said, looking at the two. “I can somewhat handle it even if they came in a group, unless they as strong as Deaths.”

It was an unlikely possibility. Deaths were not on the level where humans could do anything with quantity. If they could, Selv would beg them to replace him.

“But, the same might not be true for you two. Considering how they were able to hurt you, there might be a chance that- “

“Enough,” Gilbert said with a harsh tone. “This is getting nowhere. I see you have become a coward. No, I guess it was from the start. That was why you ran away that time,” he said, looking straight into his eyes as if challenging.

“…”

I did not run away, was the words Selv swallowed back. He did not have the right to say it. How could he? Regardless of what had happened, he did return to his home in a form of running away, abandoning responsibility and many other. If it was not because of the news about Deaths, he would still be there.

“If you still don’t have that much trust in us, I will go with the boy. That should solve your problem and it’s not like he could decently gather information, he said, sending a look at Scond for agreement.

“Kay!” he replied without thinking while nodding few times. He did not know anything except Selv and Gilbert were having an argument. A beat later, he let out an “Ah” and shrunk himself for not taking Selv’s side.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

Without waiting for Selv’s reply, he took scond and went somewhere in a fast walk.

Selv merely watched them as they disappeared on the next corner. Left alone, he scratched his head in frustration.

“Look who’s getting hasty and heated up. I guess I should be happy that he showed a fatherly side,” Selv said with a small smile on his face.

While Gilbert had noticed Selv’s unusual behavior, the other way was also the same. The man did a good job hiding it, but Selv realized that his footsteps were a beat faster, as if being urged by something.

When he noticed, a warm fluffy feeling rose up in his chest.

Even so, he felt he had done something bad because despite knowing it, he chose to move carefully. So, he accepted the full brunt of his words.

“A coward, huh,” he mumbled.

He spared only a moment to reflect on his action. Then, he erased the previous feeling and walked to a different direction than Gilbert’s.

His feet led him through a long road, multiple alleys, abandoned buildings with a door leading to the other side.

Ghost of the past showed themselves as he passed by in the form of memory. In his eyes, a shadow of a man leading hundreds of employees was reflected. He shouted directions while pointing at one employee to another.

One second later, they were gone, leaving nothing but broken machines, dirt, and scraps.

He lowered his head for a moment, but feet still moving. They would never allow him to.

Time was infinite. Humans were not. Present was slowly becoming past, dragging humans with it. One was allowed to look back, but never to stop.

What awaits people who stop are regret only.

Coming out from the building, Selv was at a large space. From the dried fountain in the middle and snapped lamps around, it seemed to be a plaza.

Wind with the smell of ash rolled an empty bin toward him. Selv traced it and found a man, leaning against the fountain with several bins around him.

“Hey, are you alright?”

Selv shook the man’s shoulder, causing the man to wake up.

“A, aaaa.”

From the man’s mouth came the smell of alcohol. Upon closer look, he was slightly red in the face. The instant he saw Selv, his eyes went wide.

“O’ God. What a being such as yourself doing in this lowly place? Have you finally come to relieve me from this suffering?”

“No,” Selv replied with a gentle tone as if caring for a child. “I’m neither God nor came here to do that.”

“What a shame,” the man said with down-casted eyes. ”Please forgive me for showing you this pitiful state of mine.”

“There’s nothing pitiful about you. Though, you should refrain from drinking this early.”

“No. I am pitiful. Every morning, I find myself asking in front of the mirror. Is this the face of someone who once owned several large factories? No, it’s not. It’s the face of loser who couldn’t do anything right.”

He took a bin but Selv stopped him before he raised it.

“That’s enough drinking for today.”

“Please! At least let me ingulf myself so I won’t feel this pathetic. Especially, not in front of you.”

“I said it’s enough for today,” Selv said firmly, taking the bins and drained its content to the fountain’s hole. The man was crying as he did.

“A grownup man shouldn’t cry like that,” Selv said, not minding the man’s state and kept pouring it out.

He then bent down and touched the man’s face, forcing him to look straight.

“Listen. There’s never too late in changing ourselves. You’re just limiting yourself by clinging to past fame. Here, it’s nothing much but this should be enough to start over.”

Selv handed him a bag of money.

“N- No! It’s too fearful to receive this,” the man said, groveling on the ground while offering back the bag up with open palms.

“Just take it. Money holds no value to me.,” Selv persisted.

“No, I cannot.”

Selv scratched his head. He was troubled. Usually, people in his situation would take even one cent of the money they were given and praised the benevolent one who shows pity. Some would even rob other afterward to earn more.

Yet, the same behavior could not be seen from the man. In fact, most of the citizen would do the same. It rooted because of this town’s tale.

Selv reluctantly took it back with a sigh.

“By the way, did you see people with black coats around here?”

He asked with little hope considering his situation. But, the man replied.

“Yes, I did.”

“I often see people with black coat roaming around the huge warehouse not far from here.”

“Thank you. You helped me.”

Selv stood, giving the man a pat on his shoulder. He then took several coins and threw it to the dried fountain.

“Did you know that people used to believe this thing as wishing fountain? Well, I guess by now only I know,” he said and placed his hand on his sword. “Once in a while, I get the urge to believe such things before going to battle. See you later.”

Without turning back, Selv walked away. He felt the man stood and bowed his head, but he did not confirm it.

The money was no longer Selv’s so it was anyone to take.

In the end, Selv did not remember the man’s name. He did feel familiar, however. Silently, he prayed so the money was not used for alcohol.

Tracing his unreliable memory, he reached the mentioned place. He spotted a man with a black coat entering the building.

“Bingo.”

He considered meeting up with Gilbert and Scond for a second, but he threw away that idea. The enemy’s number was unknown. They might have place traps or use Nely to seal their movement.

Thinking of the worst-case scenario, Selv decided to go alone.

Erasing his presence, he sneaked as close as possible. A few seconds peek and grasped the information he needed. It was without a doubt the person who kidnapped Nely. There was no room for misunderstanding because she was there.

Selv closed his eyes and slowly counted to five to reach his peak mental condition. Now, no situation will dull his movement.

Without further ado, he slammed the spandeck wall with his fist. Voices of surprised came from inside. They argued on something and a footstep came closer.

Selv waited. He waited like a skillful predator when aiming for its prey. Every muscle in his body was, little by little, awakening from its dormant state. His spatial recognition ability increased greatly while useless information was put under.

The moment a person entered his vision, his head was severed. Without waiting for the person to reach, bleed, and fall, Selv sent his head back inside with a kick. A loud sound of something wooden broke into pieces.

In a split second between impact and surprise, Selv rushed inside. He spared no time for his enemies to regain calmness. First was the nearest. Done. Next was the first to show a reaction. Done.

Blood splashed into his cheek, he did not care. Selv’s sense of smell finally caught up with him and it further stimulated his brain.

As if carving for more blood, he dyed the building red. After killing around eight people, he finally received feedback from his enemies. Quite a small number if he had to say. He was sure he could half their number before it. They were better than he had expected.

People were on their guard, but they did not make their weapon appear just yet. This was how people fight using a body-clad weapon. By taking advantage of the enemy’s optimal weapon range. Without letting the enemy knew their weapon’s range, they took the situation to their favor.

Even Selv would have a hard time fighting against spear in term of range and dagger in term of a short-range fight. That was why he relied on speed. He dodged after they made the first move, and never give them the second chance. Simple, yet hard thing to execute.

He saw a man issuing orders a few meters away. Next to him was Nely with a terrified face. He thought nothing of it. Her image of him might be rewritten by this. She might develop a trauma. But, once again, he thought nothing of it.

He merely swung his sword and stole the life near him.

This him was without a doubt overlapped with the Deaths, the enemies he had to defeat. How ironic. The only one who could fight on the same stage with Deaths was someone who did a similar thing.

Did that thoughts or the enjoyment of cutting people curved his lips, only he knew.

Amidst the fight, he noticed something strange on the ground. With naked eyes, it was impossible to notice but he felt something was there from his enemies’ action. It was as if they were leading him there.

He did the most natural thing to do, took a distance from it. Once he did, the enemies’ morale took a great hit. He used it to cut their number to half in one go.

Then, he checked on his weapon. The thin-curved sword in his hand, which was used to cut a dozen man, hadn’t shown sign of damage. Granted, it was made extra tough, but the main reason was Selv avoided cutting the hard bones. He mainly made them unable to fight with blood loss and wait for them to die on their own.

Half-left. He decided to raise the gear. But, a sharp pain assaulted his chest.

“!!”

His expression twisted slightly. Breathing became hard and his concentration was disturbed.

Not now. He begged.

He was in a race with time.

For the first time in this fight, he took a deep breath. The man seemed to be the leader took hold of Nely and pressed a knife to her neck.

His decision was settled. Ignoring the underlings, he made his way through. He transferred himself into a bolt that aimed at the unexpecting enemy’s leader. Just a few meters away from his killing range, he was stopped.

Selv tried to force through his way, but he was caught off guard by the man’s reckless abandon tackle. The man also held him, not budging from his struggle. Selv stabbed the man’s body, aiming for his heart. Yet, the hold did not loosen.

A roar of determination entered his ears from up-close. Selv understood the man had decided to give his life for his. Not that he would let him. Selv cut the man’s tendons. Blood spurt out, he did not stop.

He preferred not to do it, but he had no choice but to sever the man’s limbs. At that time, another sharp pain in his chest. He lost the power to resist together with his breathing.

Unable to resist, he and the man reached the suspicious ground and fell deep.