"Scum!"
The boy swung an iron rod down again and again on the scavenger's lower body, smashing his crotch into a bloody mess.
"Stop it, Vik! Have you forgotten our law? You can't torture him like this!"
A late-arriving companion rushed forward and grabbed the rod.
"Bah!" Vik spat. "Blanche gave him food, and he actually tried to violate her. Blanche is his own daughter! Am I not supposed to beat him? Just killing him would be too easy!"
The disheveled girl tugged at his sleeve, sobbing. "Stop, Vik. It's not worth it."
The others looked ashamed. They were one squad, yet in the blink of an eye this scavenger had dragged the girl into a dark alley.
If Vik hadn't found them in time, they dared not imagine what horrors she would have suffered.
"Spare me, I was wrong, Blanche, Blanche, forgive me!"
The scavenger wept bitterly, kneeling despite the searing pain.
But the children's eyes were cold, devoid of pity.
Another boy shoved a knife into Vik's hand and whispered: "Kill him. Dispose of the body before we're discovered."
"Discovered by who?" A cold, raspy voice echoed in their ears.
The boys froze, raising their heads toward the pale giant standing in the dark.
"I smell sin," Curze said. "You were torturing him? The law allows you to kill, but not to torture."
"My lord, it wasn't Vik's fault, it was mine," the girl cried, pleading for him.
Curze shook his head. "No, no, girl, you were the victim. I saw it clearly."
He looked at Vik. "As for you, let me think… how should I punish you?"
Vik lowered his head, his eyes dim. "At least let me kill him before I die."
"Kill him." Curze nodded.
Without hesitation, Vik slashed the scavenger's throat.
In the past months, the Midnight Phantoms had swept through more than a hundred gangs large and small, expanding their territory a hundredfold.
But their domain was too vast, and their core members too few to manage it all effectively.
So there were always those who thought they could escape justice. Only death could deter them.
Vik gave the girl a faint smile, then raised the dagger toward his own heart.
A massive hand caught the blade.
Vik stared in horror at Curze, blood dripping from the giant's palm.
"Suicide is a grave sin. I did not permit you to die." Curze pulled the knife free from his own flesh and said slowly, "You committed a crime, but death is not your punishment. Go find Leon, he'll tell you how to atone."
Vik lowered his head. The girl gave Curze a look of gratitude, and the others sighed in relief.
Curze vanished as suddenly as he had appeared.
"You didn't kill him?" Caelan asked in surprise.
"I don't like your tone," Curze frowned.
Caelan sighed in mock heartbreak. "The child's grown up. He's starting to resent me."
"I like that even less!"
"Are you ordering me?"
"I'm asking you."
"…Fine." Caelan nodded, and Curze eased.
"Of course I wouldn't kill him. Anger made him lose control, but he wasn't truly wrong. Compared to real torture, his actions were nothing. But I can't let it slide. Law is law; no one may trample it. That's what you taught me: law must be upheld to protect the people."
"And if the one breaking the law is me?" Caelan asked deliberately.
Curze fell silent. Caelan thought he wouldn't answer, but then he said: "You… don't have to be human."
Caelan's face darkened. 'Was that a double meaning, or an insult?'
Curze pressed on: "Forbidding them to torture, giving criminals a quick death, that's not sheltering criminals. It's preventing new crimes. Torture becomes an addiction."
"You're drawing the line for them?"
Curze nodded. "Maybe it's a high bar, but it's necessary."
These were his foundation. Solid walls must rest on a solid base, and he would not allow his foundation to rot.
He saw what that boy might become: a cruel butcher, twisting the law to torture others for pleasure.
That was a future Curze could never allow. He would not punish someone for crimes not yet committed, Caelan had taught him that, but he would ensure such a future never came to pass. That boy needed to be punished to understand his mistake.
After killing hundreds, the Midnight Phantoms ended their day's patrol and returned to camp.
Philly had been waiting at the gate, rushing to greet them with joy.
"Teacher Caelan," she said, walking at his side, "some of the new children confessed they were spies from other gangs. They say the gangs are planning to unite and launch a full-scale attack against us."
"Gangs don't unite so easily. There must be someone else behind it." Curze speculated.
"I thought the same." Caelan nodded.
The Midnight Phantoms' order now controlled half of the underhive, and soon the whole underhive would be theirs.
But most of the people were already dead. Gang members were exterminated without exception. Scavengers survived only if they obeyed the law. Only children could join them.
Because children could be shaped, because they still had the chance to atone.
Scavengers and orphans who neither wished to be killed nor to kill naturally turned toward the Midnight Phantoms, and refugees kept flocking into their lands.
But to gang members, the Phantoms' arrival meant utter ruin.
No gang could withstand their assault. Every gang attacked by them was wiped out within a day.
This drove neighboring gangs to abandon their turf and flee, while the rest, under crushing pressure, banded together.
But hundreds of gangs could not unify so quickly. There had to be a voice suppressing dissent, driving them to this total war.
That voice didn't come from the underhive. The largest gangs there were no stronger than Bloodclaws or the Hadrid Gang, and none dared face the Phantoms. Their "unity" was just desperation.
The upper hive had interfered in the gang wars of the underhive. That was no ordinary signal.
"The lords above feel threatened," Curze growled, his laugh low and cold. His eyes burned with ice. "They never wanted this world to know order. Their corruption is revolting."