Chapter 48

"Rugis, there's no point in this, is there? Why don't we both put down our swords?"

Holding his blade in a dazzling display, Helt Stanley spoke in a soothing tone.

Though he said it, his stance with the sword was without a single flaw. If one were to casually leap into his guard, thinking to catch him off guard, their skull would likely be split in two.

Struggling to keep the emotions welling up inside him from surfacing in his voice, he replied as lightly as possible.

"Yeah, I think so too. But if neither of us can back down, then there's no choice."

He muttered, "Sometimes it has to be this way," and spat out his chewed tobacco.

Holding dull silver knives in both hands, he maintained a proper distance from Helt. This was not an opponent to be taken lightly. In fact, he had never intended to fight without an ambush or a trap.

After all, his opponent was Helt Stanley, the future savior, an undeniable genius, and a figure of imposing presence like the sun.

Dust danced in the slums. In this dimly lit city, only this main street was strangely bathed in sunlight.

No, I don't want to. I really don't want to. Fighting this guy head-on is insane.

*

"So, what about that girl?"

"She's long gone," he said, pointing to the crowded street.

Despite everything, she had a strong streak of luck. A single child, but running through the familiar slums was no problem for her.

Relieved that her small figure was nowhere to be seen in the crowd, he met Helt's gaze.

"Rugis, why did you do such a thing?"

Helt's question seemed genuinely pure. His expression suggested he was struggling to grasp the facts. It was a rare look of confusion for someone who always cut everything with righteousness and justice.

"Don't ask me what I don't understand. My friend's sister was about to lose an arm. Of course, I couldn't just stand by."

He narrowed his eyes and stared at the guards lined up behind Helt.

When Helt asked if it was true, the guard, perhaps realizing he couldn't lie, saluted and answered, "Yes, Captain."

It was a stark contrast to the arrogant attitude they showed towards the slum dwellers. It was a polite manner he had never received from anyone.

He didn't know when Helt had become a captain of the guard. He had never heard such a story during their travels. However, he knew that the Stanley family was a well-known noble family in Galuamaria.

Thus, it was natural for the guard to show deference based on family status. A completely equal organization was unheard of. Helt's family background and his skills had likely propelled him to the rank of captain in a short time. Of course, there might be other reasons.

After a few words with his subordinate, Helt fell silent, pressing his lips together, and then said, "Alright. I will order the capture of that girl. However, no execution on the spot. No matter what."

He couldn't help but widen his eyes and doubt his ears. Was he hearing things wrong? He blinked, trying to understand. What was this guy saying? It was incomprehensible. It felt even more distant than the conversation with the lizard earlier.

Helt was not a person with evil intentions. He wouldn't try to capture Cereal just for his own glory like the lizard. So why?

"…This is outside the wall, Helt Stanley. What kind of logic allows the guard to enter the slums?"

He spoke carefully, setting aside his confusion.

Helt raised his eyebrows and slowly shook his head, as if he could see through his intentions.

"I understand that you didn't know the facts, Rugis. …My subordinate reported that the girl had a tattoo. If that's true, I can't just let her go."

His tone was almost like a warning, a soothing reassurance. It was as if he was offering leniency. It was a bothersome way of speaking.

Indeed, Cereal had a tattoo on her neck, a mark of past crimes.

Ah, I see, that's the logic. I almost forgot.

Helt was a stubborn man who never talked sense with him and never tolerated evil.

So, he's saying this: a tattoo is a mark of a criminal. Even if she's a girl, if she was branded in Galuamaria, this suspicion won't be easily cleared. In fact, it's more likely to be a guilty verdict.

I see, that's fair. Excellent. It's the most justifiable reason.

"Those with tattoos are not even allowed to approach Galuamaria. This is a clause agreed upon with neighboring city-states. I understand your point, Rugis, but can you leave this to me?"

He's saying he won't treat her badly.

As a captain of the guard, Helt could send letters to neighboring city-states. Unlike the deputy captain, the lizard, Helt had the authority to pursue those with tattoos even outside Galuamaria.

Brilliant.

Leave it to me, he said, as if it were a joke. What a nasty joke.

His limbs were numb, his throat dry, refusing to speak. It was as if a snake, coiled around his mind for years, was whispering to keep quiet.

He couldn't deny that he had been influenced by Helt during their journey. Helt's words seemed, in some way, right. They were indeed correct.

But, it's different. I and you are fundamentally different beings.

"…There's no choice, huh. It's me. Judge me."

Helt's eyes widened in surprise at this sudden statement. There was no turning back now.

But, I can't leave Cereal to you. You'll punish her. That's the kind of man you are. You don't understand.

Ah, that's right. A tattoo is a mark of a crime. Theft, assault, or fraud. It's a desperate act.

In Helt's mind, there's no concept of being forced to commit a crime. A crime is something that should never be committed, no matter what.

So, he can't even imagine it.

Unable to afford a doctor, unable to buy medicine, unable to provide nutritious food. Watching a sick family member weaken, with nothing but tears to offer.

No matter how much you pray to God, the world offers no help. There is no one to save you in this world. That's the cruel reality a child understands.

And so, those who can't give up, those who seek medicine or nutritious food, end up committing crimes.

It's not just Helt. They don't understand, the strong ones. The weak are not included in the theories of the strong.

"I said I'm the one who committed the theft. And that kid is not an accomplice. Just a passerby."

He wouldn't ask him to accept that. A crime is a crime, and punishment is punishment. Yes, very just.

But, there are people who can't live in that world.

"Besides, it's a waste of time to catch her. That kid can't talk. She was shocked when her brother almost got killed by the guard when she was younger."

He pulled out a knife from his waist and said it as if it were nothing.

There was no turning back now. He didn't even want to.

His thoughts were surprisingly calm. Deep down, he must have understood.

He and Helt Stanley were irreconcilable in their will, their lives, their souls, in every way.