The port town quaked with dread.
Shattered stalls littered the market, citizens screamed, and the soldiers of the black ship roared in anger.
Yet in the moment Endi struck down a soldier with a single blow, silence fell as if time itself had stopped.
Townsfolk, soldiers, the fleeing and the resisting alike—every gaze fixed upon a single boy.
"Endi… once again, you saved me…"
Paulo rasped as he rose weakly from the ground.
Endi shot a glance to a nearby fisherman.
"Take Paulo and get him far from here!"
The man froze for an instant, then hurried to lift Paulo and dash him toward safety.
But the quiet lasted only a heartbeat.
The nineteen remaining soldiers closed in, step by step, forming a ring around Endi.
Some snarled like demons.
"You little bastard! Do you have any idea what you've done!?"
"You're not leaving here alive!"
The town's murmur swelled again.
"What the hell's with that kid? He's insane!"
"Somebody should help him!"
"Yeah? Then why don't you go?"
Lamia stood paralyzed in despair.
Because of her, Endi might die.
Her thoughts froze, leaving her standing helpless, eyes drowning in guilt and fear.
"Well then… ready to meet your end, boy?"
"You don't belong in this town. Get out now."
Even surrounded by nineteen enemies, Endi's voice rang clear, as if lifted by strength from deep within his soul.
Behind them, Darmaine clenched a cigarette between his lips, grinning darkly.
"Gahaha… rare these days, a brat with some backbone."
"You're their leader, aren't you? There's no woman named Lamia here. Take your men and leave this town."
Endi's glare was sharp, his words cold.
"Heh… impressive. But that kind of cheap sense of justice won't get you anywhere in this world."
Endi blinked, baffled. The meaning of Darmaine's words eluded him.
"Listen up, boy. I'll teach you the truth of this world. Like it or not, there's always a 'front' and a 'back' to society. And both sides share one law—survival of the fittest. No matter what sweet lies you spout, the weak are nothing but prey for the strong. Capitalism, democracy—they're just idealistic nonsense. Weaklings who wave around pathetic ideals of justice die young. A punk like you, all bark and no brains, doesn't stand a chance."
Darmaine exhaled a plume of smoke, speaking with chilling calm.
Endi stared into his eyes, listening intently.
Lighting a second cigarette, Darmaine continued.
"Muscle and guts won't keep you alive forever. You look stupid, lacking the qualities to ever lead others. You'll never be anything—just a naïve little brat. The only way for the weak to survive is to throw away pride and live within their station… or cower beneath the shadow of the strong. You're still young. Get smart, boy. If you like, come aboard my ship. I'll even welcome you."
Endi lowered his gaze, silent.
Then he looked up, a mocking smile on his lips.
"Blah, blah, blah. You're really proud of that empty speech, huh? I don't get half of what you said, but I know this—
I'll become strong enough to stand with the weak! Who the hell would serve under some pathetic middle-aged blowhard like you, idiot!?"
A vein throbbed on Darmaine's temple, and the atmosphere froze solid.
Endi's taunt had crushed his pride to dust.
"Bold words… to mouth off at me—the greatest brawler of mankind! Don't swallow those words, kid."
He cracked his knuckles, menace radiating.
Endi tensed. Was this bluster, or the aura of a true monster?
"Get him!"
At Darmaine's command, nineteen soldiers lunged at Endi at once.
The townspeople screamed, while Lamia's eyes shook even harder with terror.