The World Is Mine For The Taking

Zeruel's POV

It had been three days since the incident, and I found myself standing amidst the ruins of the sanatorium, or what remained of it—a charred, blackened structure stood as the only testament to the devastation that had occurred. The fire had claimed many victims, leaving behind a trail of death and destruction.

Yet, the truth behind the fire remained shrouded in mystery, with no one able to ascertain its origins.

I knew exactly what had transpired, but the fear of repercussions against my family kept me silent. I refused to speak or cooperate with the investigation, fearing the consequences.

As I wandered through the park surrounding the sanatorium, I spotted Doctor Natasha attending to the survivors still in need of care. Beneath a large canopy, the injured and sick were gathered, their beds arranged in rows, each filled with people in various states of recovery.

As she approached me, I could see the sorrow etched on her face. "I see you're doing better," she remarked with a sad smile.

"Yes, thanks to your help," I replied gratefully.

Her tone turned melancholic as she offered her condolences. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Oh right. I hadn't told anyone yet that my mother was still alive. Her life support had been terminated during the incident. I hadn't confided in anyone, but it seemed Doctor Natasha assumed my mother was among the deceased.

I forced a smile, though it held little warmth. "Thank you," I murmured. Then, extending a small sack I'd been carrying, I added, "Before I forget..."

Curious, she accepted the sack and peered inside. "What's this?"

"It's the total amount owed to the sanatorium for the fees we incurred, along with the 30 gold coins you provided," I explained.

"What...? But we gave you those coins to help, not to burden you with debt," Doctor Natasha protested, concern evident in her voice. "You didn't have to repay me."

"It's okay," I insisted. "I'd feel guilty if I didn't try to repay the kindness somehow."

She met my gaze, searching for any signs of wrongdoing. "You didn't obtain this money through... questionable means, did you? Like selling yourself or stealing?"

I shook my head adamantly. "No, Doctor. I would never do anything like that. These coins were earned honestly."

"Alright..." she relented, her expression softening. "Regardless, I'm relieved that you made it through."

"Thank you," I murmured gratefully.

After our conversation, I cast one last glance at the charred remains of the sanatorium before making my way back to where my mother was currently being cared for.

***

Three days earlier...

As my mother's breathing ceased and her heart fell silent, a group of five women clad in black attire and Tragedy masks materialized before me. Their solemn masks seemed to mirror the grief I felt over my mother's passing.

Lost in despair, I paid little attention to their arrival until they approached my mother's lifeless form. With swift movements, they placed a plastic mask over her mouth, prompting a surge of confusion and disbelief within me.

"Wh-Who...?!" I attempted to demand answers, but my voice faltered as I felt my mother's breath return, her chest rising and falling once more. "Eh...?"

"You needn't worry, Miss Zeruel. Your mother will be alright," one of the women assured me.

I regarded them with surprise and suspicion. "Who are you?" I inquired, unable to discern their identities behind the masks. Even if they were to reveal their faces, their true identities would remain shrouded in mystery.

"We are His shadow," they said in unison.

In that instant, a recollection flooded my mind—my conversation with Leon from the previous day.

***

"For personal enjoyment," Leon said in with a strangely jovial tone that left me incredulous. He claimed he wanted a ticket for the King's Game solely for amusement, disregarding the vast array of rewards that could be obtained from winning. It seemed too absurd to be true.

"You don't seem convinced," he noted, observing my skepticism.

"To be honest, I'm not. Do you honestly expect me to believe such a flimsy excuse? If you were straightforward about wanting to have a good time, I might have found that more believable," I retorted.

"Well, believe what you will, but I'm being honest. I just want to have fun. But enough about that. Will you accept my offer or not?" he pressed.

His proposition was undeniably tempting. In fact, it was so enticing that it almost overwhelmed me with excitement. Not only could I settle the debt at the sanatorium, but he also pledged to assist in finding a cure for my mother's illness. It was an opportunity too good to pass up.

However, suspicions lingered in my mind. The offer seemed too good to be true; there had to be a catch.

"You're not... implying you want my body, are you?" I asked cautiously, voicing the concern that had been gnawing at me. We were, after all, in a brothel, and it wouldn't be surprising if such requests were commonplace.

"Well, I might have considered it, especially since you're dressed so provocatively and all dolled up," he replied casually.

My heart raced with indignation. "What...! No way!" I exclaimed, instinctively shielding myself with my hands and turning away, the weight of his words adding to the palpable tension in the room.

"Don't turn around like that. You're giving me quite the view," he remarked, his tone laced with amusement.

Flushed with embarrassment, I hastily covered my exposed areas, feeling exposed and vulnerable. "You're despicable!" I spat, shooting him a venomous glare.

"Your expressions are quite presumptuous," he remarked with a slight smile. "It's rather hard to reconcile this with the face of the person who coldly rejected my confession. Surprising, but also quite sexy, if I may say so."

I continued to glare at him, disbelief mingling with indignation. What was this man implying? Was he nothing more than a lecherous pervert? I had initially believed him to be a decent guy, but now it seemed that all men were cut from the same cloth as my father.

"Relax," he interjected, sensing my growing anger. "I'm not the type to coerce a woman into bed. Sex should be a mutually enjoyable experience between two consenting people. I have no interest in forcing anyone into anything. While I do enjoy the idea of dominance, it's not something I'd impose forcefully."

"Dominance, you say...? So, you're just like every other man! Treating women as mere possessions to be conquered, aren't you?!"

"I don't see them at all," I replied firmly, redirecting the conversation back to its original topic. "Let's focus on the matter at hand before we venture further into unknown territory. So, let me ask you again: will you accept my offer or not? If you suspect there's a catch, feel free to think whatever you like, but I assure you, I won't do anything untoward to you."

I couldn't say for certain whether this man was trustworthy or if his words held any truth, but at this point, I had few options other than to extend my hand, even if it meant grasping for a knife. Compared to the alternative of becoming a prostitute with a meager salary of two to three silver coins per night, the prospect of staying with him seemed far more appealing. So, I made my decision.

"Okay... I accept your help," I declared.

Leon's smile widened at my acceptance. "Good," he said. "I'll come to you tomorrow with Miss Shredica to retrieve it. However, if for some reason Miss Shredica isn't available, I'll send my Shadows to collect it."

"...Shadows?"

I couldn't help but inquire, my head tilted in confusion. Was he referring to literal shadows? But Leon chuckled softly at my question. "They are my personal bodyguards," he clarified.

***

As the women began to carry my mother away from me, I couldn't help but wonder if they were the Shadows Leon had mentioned. Perhaps I could entrust my mother to them. But as Shredica eyed them suspiciously, she voiced her doubts.

"Shadow?" she questioned. "What does that mean? Is it some kind of organization?"

"We are not obligated to tell you anything," one of them retorted.

The other woman then sniffed the air around Shredica. "I smell the scent of our master on her."

"Shh! Don't say such things!"

"Oh... Sorry," the woman who had sniffed the air apologized, backing off a little. Her admission confirmed my suspicion that their master was indeed Leon.

Since Leon had mentioned that both he and Shredica would come to retrieve the ticket, and seeing Shredica present, I assumed Leon must be nearby. Circumstances must have led him to delegate the task to his "shadows" or whatever he called them.

The atmosphere grew tense as Shredica, oblivious to the connection between the term "master" and Leon, shot a puzzled glance at the women. She then gave herself a quick sniff, her expression turning incredulous as she found no scent to justify their claim.

"I don't smell at all, so what are you talking about?" she retorted, her voice laced with skepticism.

As she spoke, her glare intensified, her eyes narrowing as if daring the women to challenge her further. Sensing her hostility, the women exchanged weary glances before one of them suddenly vanished into thin air.

"...?!"

Both Shredica and I were gobsmacked at that. Then, in a flash, the woman reappeared behind Shredica. She tried to spin around to block the attack, but it was too late. With a swift chop to the back of her nape, Shredica slumped to the ground, unconscious.

I watched in awe as the woman effortlessly caught Shredica and gently placed her on the floor. The entire sequence unfolded in the blink of an eye, showcasing a level of skill and precision that surpassed anything I had ever witnessed. These were the "shadows" Leon had mentioned. They were formidable, far stronger than myself.

In that moment, a realization dawned on me. Perhaps Leon was more than just another student at our school.