The room was small and cluttered, with scattered clothes, papers, and trinkets lying carelessly across the floor. The dusty windows let in only a faint light, leaving much of the space drowned in heavy shadows. It wasn't suffocating or decayed, but it carried a sense of chaos, reflecting its owner's disregard for appearances.
Despite the mess, there was a strange aura lingering in the air, as if a subtle energy flowed quietly from Toxifar himself, even as he lay on the floor. The apartment wasn't cozy or welcoming, yet it pulsed with a hidden tension like a space that could shift at any moment from lazy calm to sudden danger.
Toxifar sat on the floor, legs crossed comfortably, a strange, almost unsettling smile spreading across his face as he looked directly at Milo. His voice was calm, tinged with both amusement and mystery:
"Welcome to my humble home… what brings you here?"
The atmosphere in the room grew slightly tense, as Toxifar's enigmatic smile carried a mix of playfulness and warning, leaving Milo alert and carefully assessing the situation.
Milo remained silent and composed, his calm exterior belying the anger simmering beneath the surface.
Lucas spoke on Milo's behalf, his tone casual but slightly pointed.
"He told me he wants to talk to you about something… but honestly, you didn't tell me you knew him."
Toxifar felt a surge of happiness and stood up.
"I suppose he wants to join us… Milo, have you truly grasped the truth? I'm glad!"
Lucas fell silent, as if he didn't want to continue.
Suddenly, Milo spoke in a low, quiet voice:
"Shut up…"
Toxifar pretended not to hear, tilting his head slightly, a sly glint in his green eyes.
"Yes? What did you say?" he asked, his grin widening as he stood, his posture relaxed but alert, the sunlight catching the tips of his messy green hair, giving him a mischievous, almost untamed aura.
Milo slowly lifted his head, his gaze sharp and unwavering, his dark eyes burning with controlled anger. His jaw was set firmly, and the tension in his stance betrayed the storm brewing beneath his calm exterior.
"I'm not joining you, you scum," Milo said, his voice low but cutting through the air with icy precision.
Lucas stepped forward, concern etched on his face, his tone urging calm.
"Milo… calm down. What's wrong…?"
Toxifar's eyes widened slightly, his features tightening as he stood still, trying to mask his surprise with a small, uneasy smile that didn't reach his green eyes.
"What…?" he said hesitantly, as if struggling to process what he had just heard.
Milo raised his hand steadily, pointing it toward Toxifar, his eyes burning with anger and icy resolve:
"Your gang members attacked my friend last night, tried to steal from her, and broke her arm!"
Lucas, shocked, practically trembled in his seat, his voice quivering:
"What??? Is… is she okay?"
Toxifar remained motionless, his body still, but his surprise grew with every word.
Milo continued in a sharp, commanding voice:
"We are not a gang of girl hunters… you already know our goal"
Milo stood firm, his eyes burning with anger, his body tense, hands gripping Toxifar's clothes as if channeling all his inner rage into that single action. His expression was stern, jaw tight, lips pressed in determination, radiating control and authority despite the storm of emotions within him.
Lucas, standing beside him, appeared calmer but visibly anxious, lightly holding Milo's shoulder to restrain him. His face reflected concern, eyes tracking every subtle movement, his gestures cautious and measured, wary of escalating the situation further.
Toxifar faced them with a mysterious grin, his posture relaxed despite the tension. His green eyes sparkled with curiosity and mild surprise, his green hair slightly falling over his forehead. His features were composed, yet there was a subtle alertness in his gaze, as if he was silently analyzing the unfolding scene.
Toxifar spoke,
"Describe to me the people who attacked your friend."
Milo still held Toxifar by the collar.
"They're from your gang, aren't they?"
Lucas stepped in, pushing Milo's hands away from Toxifar.
"I told you, don't rush. Describe them to us first."
Milo pulled his hands back.
"Ah… I'm sorry, I got carried away in my anger. I really apologize."
Lucas smiled at Milo.
"It's alright."
Milo spoke, his voice steady but tense:
"As far as I remember, one of them had a scar on his forehead."
Both Lucas and Toxifar were shocked.
Lucas scowled.
"Oh, that bastard…"
Toxifar laughed lightly.
"Oh, nice. I know him. Do you want me to show you where he is?"
Milo responded quickly,
"Yes."
Lucas interrupted them sharply,
"Wait, Toxifar! You'll get him into trouble if you start a fight with them."
The atmosphere between them was tense and charged. Milo looked at Lucas, eyes searching for an explanation about the strength of these people, a mix of surprise and caution evident in his expression. Lucas tried to remain calm, giving answers slowly and carefully.
Toxifar (interrupting confidently): "They're members of the Talented Gang. You could simply consider them some ants they're weak. But that's not the problem."
Toxifar: "The Talented Gang is huge, even more than we are. They operate under a leader named Tavian. He's extremely powerful."
The room felt electric, as if every word and gesture could ignite a spark, with an unspoken sense that what lay ahead was far larger than a simple personal confrontation.
Milo's brows furrowed, a flicker of worry crossing his usually calm face. His voice was low, tinged with concern:
Milo: "Strong? How strong are tavian?"
Toxifar looked at Milo with a confident gaze, a faint smirk on his lips. Milo, in contrast, felt a knot of worry tighten in his chest.
Milo: "How strong is he?"
Toxifar's eyes gleamed with certainty.
Toxifar: "From what I know… strong enough to defeat the three of us together, even without using his full power."
The air grew heavy, Milo's worry deepening with every word. Toxifar's calm confidence only made the threat feel more real, like a shadow looming over them before the storm had even begun.
Milo blinked, slightly taken aback, but continued, his voice steady yet tense.
Milo: "You said they're just ants in that gang… that means you don't even care about them, do you?"
Toxifar chuckled slyly, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Toxifar: "Clever answer, Milo. But Tavian… he welcomes his members anytime. He treats them like family and won't hesitate to help them.
If you hurt any of them, he could send someone to kill you at any moment."
Lucas spoke up, his tone calm but firm.
Lucas: "Milo… I'm really sorry about your friend, but this isn't your fight. Don't try to stir up trouble with the Talented they're dangerous."
The room felt tense, the weight of Toxifar's words and Lucas's warning pressing down on Milo, making him feel both cornered and cautious.
Milo smiled, a cold determination in his eyes.
Milo: "Is that so? I don't care who Tavian is.
I don't care if he's strong.
All that matters is settling the debt for my friend, and I'll break the head of anyone who stands in my way."
Toxifar's eyes lit up with excitement, and he clapped his hands.
Toxifar: "Excellent! Just as I expected… you're different."
Lucas felt a creeping unease, his gut tightening.
Milo turned to Toxifar, his voice sharp and unwavering.
Milo: "Show me where they are."
Toxifar smiled, his tone laced with a hint of cunning:
Toxifar: "Well, Milo… not everything comes for free.
I'll show you, but on one condition—you join us."
Lucas remained uneasy, his eyes betraying his discomfort.
Milo looked at Toxifar with sharp eyes, his voice calm but firm:
Milo: "And what guarantees that you won't deceive me?"
Toxifar chuckled lightly, confidence radiating from him:
Toxifar: "Simple. If I ever trick you… leave our gang immediately."
Milo's lips curled into a slight smile, his tone resolute:
Milo: "An alliance."
Both Lucas and Toxifar exchanged surprised and attentive glances.
Milo continued, unwavering:
Milo: "I'll ally with you. When I need you, you help me, and vice versa. What do you think?"
Toxifar laughed heartily and clapped his hands in excitement:
Toxifar: "Deal!"
As they were leaving the apartment, Lucas stopped them, placing a hand on Milo's shoulder.
Lucas: "Milo… I don't think what you're doing is a good idea.
You're asking for trouble. You live a normal life—why risk all this?"
Milo smiled faintly at Lucas, his eyes calm but determined.
Milo: "Lucas… I won't attack them, I promise.
I'm just going to talk."
Toxifar glanced at Lucas, a curious smile tugging at his lips.
Here's the scene translated into English:
Toxifar smiled at Lucas.
Toxifar: "Don't worry, Loukie. I'm with him. I won't let him do anything unnecessary."
Then Milo and Toxifar left.
Lucas muttered to himself after they went he feeling a bad feel
"You going with him, Toxifar, that's what worries me the most, anyway."
Milo walked beside Toxifar through the narrow alleys leading into the slums. The houses here were crumbling, their walls faded and eroded, doors either broken or locked shut with rusty chains. Windows were shattered or covered with uneven planks of wood, as if their owners had long given up on fixing them.
The air was heavy, carrying the stench of mold and smoke. From a distance came the echo of shouts and rough laughter, while barefoot children darted through the alleys, their eyes glimmering with both curiosity and fear.
Toxifar moved with ease, his steps casual as though he knew every corner of this place. His mocking smile never left his face. Milo, on the other hand, remained silent, his eyes carefully scanning everything around them, every detail adding weight to the storm building inside him.
Toxifar glanced at Milo, his grin faint but sharp, then spoke with a casual tone that carried a hidden edge.
"That guy with the scar on his forehead, and the ones with him… they spend most of their time in the tavern, drowning themselves in cheap liquor. By evening, it's always the same—either they end up fighting each other over something stupid, or they sneak into the middle-class district to rob people or cause trouble."
He chuckled lightly, his green eyes narrowing with amusement.
"Pathetic habits"
Milo remained calm, his eyes fixed on Toxifar, his body ready for whatever was about to happen. Each step he took was confident, barely touching the ground as if every movement was calculated. Despite the anger simmering within him, his composure held more power than any outburst could convey.
They arrived.
Toxifar entered the tavern first, his steps confident, and then motioned for Milo to follow. As Milo stepped inside, his eyes immediately scanned the room, resting on a figure with a prominent scar across his forehead.
They took seats on chairs near the bartender. Toxifar signaled to him, and soon two drinks were placed before them. The bartender was bald, with a slightly thick beard, moving with a quiet efficiency behind the counter.
Toxifar glanced at Milo, a small, knowing smile on his lips.
"Alright, Milo… what shall we do now? He's here already."
Milo's eyes remained steady, unwavering, focused on the scarred man across the tavern. Every muscle in his body was tense but controlled, ready for whatever came next.
Toxifar lifted his cup to take a sip, but Milo immediately stood up, prompting Toxifar to turn his gaze toward him, waiting to see what he would do.
Milo walked steadily toward the table of the scar-faced man. Seven men sat there, all in their thirties, looking rough and worn, some clearly affected by the alcohol.
Milo stopped firmly in front of the scar-faced man, his eyes locked onto him, every sense alert to any possible movement.
Toxifar chuckled lightly, laughing:
"Oh… this is really going to be fun."
The scar-faced man looked at Milo, visibly annoyed.
"Huh? Got a problem, punk?"
Milo remained calm, his voice icy and measured.
"Last night… did you attack a girl with pink hair?"
The man's expression twisted with anger and irritation.
"Huh? A girl? Get out of my face! I don't even remember what I ate this morning, let alone what I do to people. Now scram!"
Milo remained standing, unmoving.
The rest of the group, along with the scar-faced man, turned their gaze toward him, curious.
"Who's this brat?" they whispered among themselves.
The scar-faced man spoke up, a wicked grin forming.
"Oh, I remember now!" he said, laughing.
"That clumsy girl… she was so happy, and then I broke her arm with these hands. She looked ridiculous, all scared!"
Milo clenched his fists, anger coursing through him.
The others laughed, recalling the incident, enjoying the memory.
One of them rose from his chair and placed a hand on Milo's shoulder, almost mockingly like an embrace.
"Oh, are you her little boyfriend, come to take revenge on her? Hahaha! Are you sad for your girlfriend? Hahaha!"
Everyone started laughing at him.
Toxifar looked on, laughing as well, ready for what was about to happen.
The bald bartender glanced over at them.
Suddenly, Milo whispered:
"Your hand…"
The scar-faced man leaned closer to Milo's ear.
"Huh? What did you say, kid?"
Milo spoke firmly, his calm voice sharp:
"Take your filthy hand off my shoulder."
The man tried to annoy Milo even more, pressing closer… and suddenly…
Milo delivered a powerful punch to his jaw, sending him crashing into the wall. The scar-faced man fell unconscious.
The bartender shouted, "Hey! Fighting isn't allowed here!"
Suddenly, Toxifar placed his hand in front of the bartender.
"Shh… be quiet."
Toxifar stood tall.
The bartender looked at him, confused. "What do you mean..."
Suddenly, the bartender froze in terror at what he saw.
A green, terrifying spark ignited from Toxifar's eyes.
"I swear, if you interfere… I will separate your head from your body."
The six men stood up.
"Do you want to get hurt, you fool?" one of them sneered.
The scar-faced man pulled out a knife, pointing it toward Milo.
"You'll die, you bastard!"
Milo grabbed his wrist and twisted it, holding him firmly.
"You trash… the only thing that works with the likes of you is force."
The scar-faced man screamed in pain.
"Do… do you know who I am?! I'm a member of the Talented Gang! My master will come and crush your head if you hurt me!"
Milo's eyes narrowed.
"Oh really? Then tell him to come. I'll break his arm too."
The scar-faced man howled in agony. Suddenly, Milo delivered a powerful punch to his face, sending him crashing to the ground.
Toxifar leapt from his spot, perfectly timed with Milo's strike. "Raaah!" he shouted, heading straight toward Milo.
The remaining five men rushed at him with a sharp, aggressive push.
Milo blocked the first strike, but a second man came from behind, aiming to hit him. Suddenly, Toxifar intervened, striking the attacker's stomach and sending him crashing to the floor.
Toxifar pressed his back against Milo's back.
"Alright, partner… let's crush them."
The rest of the people in the tavern watched in awe, unable to tear their eyes away from the unfolding chaos.
Milo jumped and struck the face of the person who had attacked him with his knee.
Toxifar grabbed two of the others with his hands, slamming them to the ground with force, breaking the table along with them.
The last remaining man fell to the floor, surrendering.
"Ah… I surrender, I surrender! Just don't hurt me!" he shouted.
Milo wiped his hands and decided to leave the last man alone.
But suddenly, without warning, Toxifar struck that man with a powerful blow, knocking him unconscious.
Milo felt slightly annoyed.
"Toxifar… that wasn't necessary."
Toxifar stood, smiling: "What, partner… don't you want to enjoy yourself?"
Milo fiddled with his hands impatiently: "I'm not here to enjoy myself… I'm here to teach these scum a lesson. And I'm not your partner it's just an alliance."
The two of them left the bar.
Toxifar was extremely happy, grinning from ear to ear, while Milo was frowning, uneasy.
Toxifar glanced at Milo.
"You just attacked a member of the Talented Gang… be ready. You've essentially declared war on them."
Milo remained calm, indifferent.
"I told you, I don't care. Let whatever happens, happen."
Milo started walking in another direction, ready to leave, but suddenly Toxifar stopped him.
"Hey… share some information with me about your contacts."
Later that evening, Milo was strolling near his home, holding his phone. He looked up Toxifar's account. Upon examining it, he noticed that a lot of the information was incomplete.
"Strange… shouldn't this account be blocked? The government is strict about accounts… so why is his account like this?"
After checking Toxifar's account, Milo suddenly received a new message on his phone.
Message from Herax:
"Milo… we need to talk soon about something..."
Milo's eyes widened slightly as he read the message. A bead of sweat slid down his forehead.
"Damn it…"
The late evening sky glowed with fading warmth, its colors shifting from soft gold to shades of violet and deep blue. A gentle breeze carried the scent of fresh earth, brushing lightly against the trees whose leaves rustled in hushed whispers. The world seemed suspended in a quiet moment, balanced delicately between day and night...